


Lost In Albion

by Dyllon_M



Series: Lost in Albion Series [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Canon - TV, F/M, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Fiction, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Historical, Magic, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 106,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24404377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dyllon_M/pseuds/Dyllon_M
Summary: Wattpad ranked 1st in Merlin (April 2020)Dragged from her bed by a mysterious man, Elena lands in a place of magic, Kings, and knights. While trying to find her own place in this world she must juggle making an effort to find her way home and also survive the adventures that come from knowing a sorcerer. There are secrets kept and revealed, love and death.
Series: Lost in Albion Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762327
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12
Collections: Merlin





	1. Chapter 1

I sit up against the headboard of my bed, the pink soft duvet covering my legs as my fingers work tirelessly to finish the conclusion to a never-ending essay. I curse the thought of another year of university, my eyes almost black with tire as swallow another gulp of cold coffee which is honestly a disgusting beverage anyways and would never again set its fowl bitterness in my mouth after graduation.

As my conclusion comes to an end I refrain myself from writing ‘the end’ as though I could push sarcasm through writing it. I curse again but this time at my professor who decided to change the assessment criteria halfway through the allocated time. I quickly press save and then press it again since I am not willing to risk anything. Blood, sweat and actual tears have been poured into this work.

The corner of my laptop display ’11:23’, plenty of time to spare for the midnight cut-off. Opening up my university submission page I finally submit the essay of the demon, aka, the ‘History of the Bolsheviks.’ I don't bother proof-reading.

I am glad to live here and now in the present, the lack of sewer systems was appalling but like everybody else, I experience a sense of longing to explore other times which is what drew me to studying history. It seems so much more barbaric and alien-like.

Although I question my love for it as I glare at the words on my screen which are muddling together in mindless jabber I am certain that history will always be something I love to learn but like everything else, I would need a break. (Maybe a permanent one from twentieth-century Russia.)

I can hear my housemate Lincoln wandering around the kitchen. It seemed every university student had the same sleep schedule – none at all.

I don’t have any classes till tomorrow afternoon so leaving my mug on my bedside table, I lean over to place my laptop onto my desk and then fold myself back up in my blankets and wait for sleep to come without the fear of a blaring alarm to wake me up from my usually dreamless sleep.

I toss and turn for a sleepless night, the blankets tangled in my legs, making me kick them off me in anger. I sigh, lying flat staring at my ceiling. In the corner of my eye, I see a slight movement of shadow. I sit upright, using my phone to light my room, pointing it from one corner to another. I don’t dare turn it off until every inch of my room had been checked over. I place my phone back on charge and lay back down, facing towards my door which remained shut, Lincoln’s footsteps now sounding off in the bathroom. Maybe I just heard a weird echo of his movement in my room.

I close my eyes, willing sleep to take me and it begins to, my mind becoming foggy. But then I hear the noise again, only my eyes fly open and I see a figure standing in my room.

In the second I see them I make out a man in a suit, with a long grey beard that tied off at the end, his hand reaching out for me. Before I can scream the sound is ripped from my throat as I feel my inside lurching around.

Is this Dumbledore? Am I going to Hogwarts?

No stupid.

Unless he wanted me to teach Muggle Studies.

My train of fruitless thought ends as my body hits another solid ground that certainly is not my bed. I can’t even register my surroundings as the sleep I had been calling for hours took me by force.

It turns to day again before my eyes started to open, awakened by the screeching of an alarm clock near my head.

“I thought I turned you off,” I mumble, reaching out blindly to put an end to the sound coming from my phone. However, instead of the feeling of a cheap bedside table from Kmart, I feel loose bark, leaves and grass between my fingers. My eyes dark open but disorientated, not having woken up fully. Colours mixed together as my right hand joins searching the ground. It also only feels the dirt ground. Can I be lucid dreaming? Surely not. It is far too real.

My eyes start to focus and I see the shape of the dark blur turn into trees, with the bare sky decorating their background. Around me seems the exact same as what lay underneath me. It is not my bedroom and at this point, I am undoubtedly not dreaming.

I am in a forest or wood. I am not certain of the distinction but trees encase me with no city buildings or even a plain rural house insight. I stand up in an attempt to see where I am better. Instead of woolly shorts and an old shirt that I sported as nightwear, I am cloaked in an elaborate dress of dark blue material with golden embroidery highlighting and contouring the dress to my body. It was medieval. Something I had never worn or owned. It felt expensive – much too expensive to be a costume.

Perhaps this is a joke my friends decided to play on me. It didn’t make sense though, as I lived in the city, nowhere near a nature reserve.

And didn’t have friends.

None of my belongings came with me, leaving me without my phone or even my clothes. My eyes start to water in panic. I had no idea where I stood and not the slightest clue which way to go.

The face of the old man from my bedroom flashes in my memory. Him. He did this. He was probably here – wherever here was. I would find him wherever he went to and demand he brings me home.

I grab the skirt section of my dress, hiking it up so my legs felt freer under the heavy material as I stomp in a random direction, determined to find the old hag and strangle him by his beard.

How dare he take me from my home? And undress me as though I was a willing volunteer into this sick joke.

“If I am on a reality tv show I better be paid some decent money you sick bastards!” I yell into the air, hoping their non-existent microphones could pick it up.

After hours of walking my stomping has turned into dragged footfalls as the sun beat down on my face as the trees became sparse. I had spent the entire morning walking in this oversized dress. It is now that I began to truly panic. I had no idea where I am or where I could find somebody else in this god-forsaken forest/wood.

Wanting to give my feet a rest, covered only in thin ballet type shoes, I find a sturdy looking tree and place myself against its trunk, leaning my head back. I sigh deeply, no longer feeling the urge to cry but getting thirsty and hungry instead. 

In front of me, a deer came into view. I breathe lighter, trying not to scare it off. I hadn’t seen a deer before. Of course, wandering for those few hours I saw many birds, rabbits and even squirrels but my loud and careless noise had likely scared off the deer that may have been near but my silence had brought one back out of hiding.

Ever so carefully I stand up, staying lent against the tree so I could see it better. A male, with small antlers and no spots on its body. This is a majestic sight to behold as it calmly ate from the grass, ears pointing forwards and backwards. It was encompassed by the rays of light peeking between the trees that turned golden as they reach the earth. By now, I am holding my breath as my eyes do not move from the creature.

Abruptly there was a shift of energy in the air. I feel it as soon as the deer did, its head snapping up to look directly at me. I could see its small nose twitching as it looked for signs of danger. I held myself like a stone against the tree, longing to blend in and hold this moment for as long as I can.

A quite twang comes from behind me followed by a short thump. In the next second, the ethereal creature that just stood before me now lay on the ground, an arrow sticking out of its neck. My hands fly up to my mouth to hold the scream from my shock. It isn’t that the poor creature lay dead but the unexpectedness of the situation threw me off. It is the lack of expectation that hunters roamed around here, especially ones who used such medieval ways of doing it.

“Nice shot Castor,” a voice, the first voice I’ve heard today says from behind the tree where the arrow came from. Then multiple horses carrying men walk past my tree. These men are donned in chainmail with a red cloak. At their sides were swords resting against their leather pants and boots. Some of them held spears at their other side or crossbows. The man leading, I would guess Castor, holds his crossbow in the air as a sign of victory as the other men cheered at his death stroke shot.

My arms sat dead against my side as my head flies to each of the men in astonishment. What in the actual world. Have I found myself in some weird medieval festival? Now I am not so sure I am not dreaming.

“What in the actual hell?” I mumble, louder than I thought as the heads of the men snap towards me. Their eyes widen as they see me, a lone woman in the middle of the forest likely with sticks and leaves in my hair which I hadn’t the chance to assess. I am quite a sight to see I must admit.

They do not raise their weapons but keep their guard up as a blonde man rides up to me.

“Who are you?” he asks, looking me up and down. I stutter for a moment. Never had I seen such a man before. The curly blonde hair and stubbled face, matched with the uniform of a knight. Talking to me. Right now. Oh – he’s talking to me-.

“Elena sir,” I say after swallowing. My voice sounded more confident than I am. I give myself an invisible pat on the back as my wide eyes stay trained on the man and his companions. The blonde man gets down off his saddle, his left handle resting gently on his sword handle.

“I am Leon. May I ask what a lone woman is doing here so far off the path?” he asks. I bow my head quickly in greeting. I felt foolish, never having performed a greeting like this but I lacked other ideas.

“I am lost, sir. I awoke in a different place to where I fell asleep.” Which is the complete truth? Minus a few parts. Leon’s eyes crinkle in confusion and I add to the story. “I think somebody knocked me out and took everything as I was travelling.”

He nodded. “I am sorry that happened to you, my lady. May we offer our assistance in any way? Where are you headed? We may be able to help you on the right path.”

Well, these men were either actual knights and I have travelled through time and space (hopefully the Doctor was around) and I have somehow made my way to an ancient time or they were men who are very good actors in their roleplay. At this point, I would like to go anywhere with food and water so I say the first place that comes to mind.

“Camelot.”

Either they would think I’m crazy, laugh or say they didn’t know that place.

“We are knights of Camelot. We are just finishing up our hunt, we shall escort you back. Castor, grab your game and let’s head back.” Well, that is an absolute surprise.

Some men let out a few groans, not having the chance to capture their own game just as yet but Leon seemed to be their leader and put up no complaint other than that.

“Thank Sir, that would be wonderful,” I respond, smiling softly at him and I get the same smile in return.

Castor also swung off his horse, hauling the deer onto his horseback and began tying it down.

“Come, you can ride with me.” Leon gestures, reaching for my hand with his gloved one and leads me over to his brown mare. Offering a hand, he assists me in mounting the saddle. I fell into a sort of side saddle with my dress, one leg resting over the pommel and the other straight down. It felt unnatural but the only position I could be in. Leon mounted with an expert lack of effort behind me, reaching around to grab the reigns. Once the other men were ready, he softly tapped his boots into the horse’s side and we began walking in the direction they came from, the other men following behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

We graze along on horseback for a good part of the afternoon, so much that my legs felt numb and my posture sunk into a rather un-ladylike slouch. By now, I feel the dryness of my lips in full effect, having been walking all morning and now with nothing to do but listen to the chatter amongst the knights and stare at the world around. I noticed the leather pouch on Leon’s saddle a while ago and knowing it is presumably full of freshwater I found myself glancing at it ever now and then. But I don’t raise my voice feeling selfish for taking another person’s supplies so I sit, dry throat and all.

“Elena, you never told us where you have come from. I assume you are not familiar with Camelot or the path.” Castor says as his black horse trots up beside the one I shared. My mind stumbles, not sure how to answer. I had no idea of the country or land around here. Absolutely nothing to work with.

“I uh – come from a very long way away sir-“

“Please, just Castor.”

“Castor. I came to these lands by boat. I had a few companions with me but these men raided us and they were all killed while I fled.”

“The ones who took all your belongings?”

“No si- Castor. This was about two weeks ago. We arrived a month or so ago on these lands. I can’t remember really, time seems fuddled when you are travelling.” I leave it as brief as possible, hoping they wouldn’t ask for specifics. My finger fiddles with the loose reign not in Leon’s hands.

“Well, it seems you have been plagued with bad luck.”

“I have indeed.”

“You have nothing to fear under my watch my lady,” Sir Leon says from behind me, “we are the best in the kingdom.” I laugh at his cockiness but not in a mocking way.

“I have all the faith in the world,” I muse. My eyes drift back down to the leather pouch. I can almost hear the water hitting its sides as it bounced against the movement of the horse.

“Here.” Castor, who still rode beside us, holding up something for me? It is the same leather pouch, a water pouch. I look at him and he nods encouraging me to take it. I let out a small thank you and hastily take it, ripping its lid off and bringing the top to my mouth.

Oh, I taste heaven and bliss. The cool water slides down my throat. I felt like I hadn’t had water in days rather than hours but in saying that, I had no idea how long I had been asleep – or unconscious lying in that spot. Water dribbles down my chin but I take no care. I want more but I feel the pouch getting lighter and I would rather not be selfish to then men who are saving me. I remove it unwillingly and screw the lid back on, handing it back over to Castor. Castor is a young man, a little younger than Sir Leon. He has short black curly hair and a Roman nose with wide but thin lips. He also has a bit of stubble that matched his hair. Rather handsome as the other knights were, one thing I observed with plenty of time to asses.

Castor smiled kindly before cantering up to the front to talk to another.

“You should have told me, my water was full,” Leon uttered to me quietly. I only shrug in response, keeping my eyes forward. 

“I was fine, I didn’t even realise I was thirsty until he offered,” I lie. The last thing I want is for him to feel bad. He doesn’t respond to my words so I let to topic drop.

As we travel back I ask them all of their names, encouraging them to talk to me about their homeland. I act excited, as though I had heard about Camelot for a long time and couldn’t wait to be there, hoping they could help me figure out what I was getting myself into. I am not foolish, I know the Arthurian tales with Merlin as the great old wizard and the Knights of the Round Table.

“And the king – I seem to have forgotten his name?” I ask, hoping they would say, Arthur. If Arthur is king I could speak to Merlin about assisting me getting back home. I can’t believe I believe this situation I am in. I am literally heading to Camelot to seek out Merlin. I am in a fairy tale book.

“That would be our esteemed Uther Pendragon,” the knight called Torj calls from behind. Some men snort at the statement. I ignore it; let them have their inside joke. The name of Uther Pendragon is not a name I know, but I am certain that means it is not the time of Arthur’s rule. I have no idea what I am heading into. Not that I know anything of the Arthurian legends anyways, never read the books on it. Planning had never been my forte.

By now I am full of stories of their wondrous nights at the taverns and training incidents. Any useful information seems useless without any idea of how I can use it. I would’ve said it is a problem for another day but it seems that the problem comes sooner rather than later.

The foliage ended, exposing the view of a sunlight castle. It is encased by structures below it, the city of Camelot. The castle itself is sublime, having nothing but imagination and stories to compare it to. I stare into its beauty, towers climbing their way into the skies above. Red and gold flags flew on the walls that could be seen from here.

I glance back at Leon who is already watching me swoon at the sight. I blush, ducking my head at being caught in a childish state but I cannot help but marvel. He chortles, feeling the rumbling from his chest.

“You don’t have castles where you are from my lady?” His question is almost sarcastic. I scoff.

“No, but we have skyscrapers, they just aren’t as beautiful as this. Most are rather boring actually,” I comment, still admiring but peering back to talk. His eyebrows furrow.

“Skyscrapers? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that term,” he speculates. I shake my head.

“No, you wouldn’t have. It’s not something… you have here. But they are like those towers only bigger and taller. Some reach the clouds.” I point to the towers then up to the sky which held the fluffy white balls of water. 

“They sound incredible. Maybe I could see them one day.”

To keep my façade, I respond gleefully, “Of course.” But sadness drops inside me as I know I’ll never be able to show this man who was someone I would like to call a friend my own home, or even be able to tell him much.

The horses follow a track in the ground, made from the imprints of many travellers of time until we reach the front gate where a group of soldiers stood guard, hands relaxed at their side, casually inspecting the hunting group which obviously posed no threat.

“Afternoon Sir Leon. I can assume you had a wealthy hunt?” One man asks, acknowledging the party’s plethora of animals on their horses’ backs. But he grins as he looks to me. “And a live one as well, you’re supposed to kill them first!” he cackles. I was almost offended until I see the innocence in the man’s eyes and some of the knights included Leon laugh and I take the joke in all it meant.

“Yes well I thought this one would be better off alive,” he offers before waving to the solider and riding onwards.

We follow a wide path through the middle of the city, passing through a market. It is filled with men and women, children and the old of all different ethnicities. Their clothing was worn but well made enough to withstand it. It was all much plainer than my own which is covered in that gold embroidery. I shrink into the saddle, using Leon as a shield as if he could hide me from embarrassment. If he notices he does not speak up.

We exit the market/city space and enter the courtyard of the castle. Many men, both in chainmail and plain clothes hustle around with a sense of purpose. Leon dismounts, offering me a hand down which I gladly take. My legs wobble underneath me from the few hours ride but I steady myself.

“Thank you.”

“Of course My lady.”

Two young men, likely in their teens come and take the game from the horses back as another three young boys lead the horses away to I assume the stables.

“Do you know where you are going now My Lady or do you need assistance in finding what you need in Camelot?” Castor asks. I shake my head, denying their further help. I just had to wander to find Merlin. Maybe he was in the castle.

“No I am fine, thank you all though. I would never have made it out of there alive without you lot,” I confess.

“I wish you well. You know our names, if you ever need anything at all just ask one of the people here in the castle for us and we shall be at your service,” he promises with a short mocking bow. I giggle, adding a little and much-unpractised curtsey of my own.

“Thank you again.”

They bow properly before wandering off, Leon looking back as I stand still watching.

The nerves settle in my stomach as I look around me. People walk past but their faces blur. I consider just yelling out the name of Merlin and hope someone will know and guide me to him but I save myself from that embarrassment by keeping my head down and choosing a random corridor to enter. No soldier or knight stops me, and I silently thank my dress for presenting me in a fashion higher than standard. Although I could’ve gotten away with being a maid if I wasn’t.

The castle is a maze to those who do not know its layout. I went through every corridor at least twice yet never found the one I could see from the window. I saw a sign for the court physician and follow it hoping that it was another word for a wizard. I find a door, in the lower part of the castle with the sign of court physician on it. I knock on the wood.

There is a mumbling of chatter inside. The door swings open and a young blonde man stands next to an elderly man with long white hair.

“Thank you, Gaius, it is much appreciated,” the younger blond thanks, holding a small vial in his hand. He turns to exit as I trip to the side to move out of the way. The boy looks me up and down then nods as he moves past me, not sparing a moment to ask questions. I look back to the man who is already looking expectantly at me. Gaius, not Merlin.

“Can I help you with something My Lady?” he asks gently.

“Uh. No, sorry I’m afraid I got the wrong person.” I explain. “Sorry to interrupt.” I walk away from the door before he can answer, going back to the wandering of the halls.

I knew I should just ask somebody but everybody looked just so…intimidating. They knew this place, this time. What if I say something wrong and I am hung or burned at the stake for it.

By now, the sky had gotten darker, with sunset rapidly approaching my worries came faster. Where would I sleep? How could I eat?

My paces on the ground speed up, desperate to find the unknown answers to my questions floating my head. As I round a corner I smack right into someone’s chest. I stumble to the ground. A tall blond man wearing all black, including a long black robe and a crown, stood there proudly looks startled as he sees me. I race to pick myself up, breathing heightened.

“Your highness, I must apologize. I was not looking where I was going.” I bleat. Please don’t take off my head. Please. My whole face burns uncomfortably. I see a second person next to him and to my dismay, it was Sir Leon.

“It is alright dear but you seem a little frazzled.” The corner almost touches his face. Almost. Leon sees this as the time to intervene, thankfully as I did not know how to answer.

“Sire, this is the girl I was talking about,” he gestures to me, “the one on the hunt.” I swallow thickly. Uther’s eyes raise in recognition, then looks at my dress.

“That is quite a dress, am I right to assume you are a Lady of high born?” he says. I could say I was but then I would be challenged with the lie that I do not know if I can keep up.

“No your highness, I made it.” A much simpler lie. His hands delicately brush over the sleeve.

“It is quite exquisite. Marvellous indeed.” His eyes follow the gold lines before reaching my own again. “Tell me, why have you come to Camelot?”

“To live here your Highness.”

“Where did you come from.” He inquires.

“From across the seas, my home was called…” I pause. “Mearth.” That sounded medievally enough to me. The King looked please enough with my answers.

“I just so happened that our royal seamstress has lost the ability to work. Some disease took the movement from her fingers,” he discloses almost casually. “And by the sight of this dress, I would say you have the workings to claim this position. You would live here in the castle and work for anybody of high status if you so desire this position.” He states, emotion void besides content. All I hear is a place to sleep and a job for money.

“That would be wonderful you’re Highness,” I gleam, curtseying as best as I can.

“Leon, escort..” he looks to me, not even having asked my name.

“Elena.”

“Elena to an empty chamber suitable for the position. Ask the handmaiden Guinevere is she could spare the afternoon from Morgana to assist her settling in.” Leon bows in submission.

“Right away Sire.”

The King moves onwards, following his original path as Leon stays behind.

“That was quite a way to introduce yourself to the King.”

“I think I died and was resurrected.” I joke but seriousness escaping. Leon bellows before leading me to my assumed room.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Leon opens the doors to my new chambers, motioning for me to enter first. I hesitantly step inside. Inside there was a single bed up against the wall to the right of the room, a window opposite the door. It has an overly large wardrobe which I think is mostly to be used to store any work the seamstress creates. There is also a long desk with a set of draws on them. I walk over and open them. To my surprise, it was full of sewing tools that I recognised.

I smile in content at the room.

“This is perfect,” I state to the open air.

“I hope so. My chambers are in the same corridor, just down the other end. Most of the other Knights lode here in this area of the castle as well if you need any assistance. I shall go retrieve Gwen fo you.” I thank him as he leaves my room.

The smile on my face drops at the realisation of my predicament. I was to be a seamstress. My position was given to me by a King who believes I created my own dress, the dress I wore now. ‘Fuck’, I mouth, now alone. I start silently swearing, grabbing my hair as I pace the room.

“I am so dead,” I groan, flopping back on my bed.

Quicker than I thought, there is a knock at my door. I waddle over to the door and open it to see a beautiful darker-skinned woman with curly brown hair tied up. She wore plainer clothes like the townspeople so I feel safe to assume she was Guinevere, the handmaid.

“You must be Guinevere,” I gush, inviting her in.

“I am, but please call me Gwen. You are Elena if I am not mistaken?”

“You are not. Thank you for coming over.”

“It is no problem, I had already finished my duties with the Lady Morgana. I hear you are our new seamstress. I am familiar with the field as well.”

We talk for a while, sitting at the table against the wall, chatting about the way this castle was run. I would not have my own servant as royalty did but instead share with the Knights who had a few servants to help them dress and collect their food and other services. Our conversation moved on to more personal topics as we discuss random matters to our hearts content

Gwen seems so innocent and kind. Maybe I can trust her, I needed help and I had to have somebody. I wouldn’t tell her everything, I would sound mad. But it is worth the shot.

“Gwen.” I stutter, not sure how to start this conversation. She looks to me with concern from my tone. “Can I tell you something. I can’t tell anyone else.”

“Of course, Elena.”

“I lied to the King.” Her eyes widen as she sits straighter in her chair.

“You lied…to the King?” she asks in disbelief. “What about?”

“That I sewed this dress,” I reply hastily, motioning to the thing. “I panicked. He thought I was highborn, a lady but I am not. So I thought, why would a low born be wearing a dress so expensive, so I just said I made it.” Gwen sits there for a moment, thinking it through.

“Do you know how to sew at all?” I shrug, raising a corner of my mouth.

“I know the basics. I taught myself when I was younger how to do simple things and basic repairs but nothing lavish enough for royalty.”

Gwen puts her hand on my shoulder, comfortingly. “It is ok. As I said, I am a seamstress myself. I can help you. You do the things required, measure them and see what needs to be done and in the afternoons after I have finished my work with Morgana I can help teach you the more intricate work.”

This girl has no reason to trust me, believe me, or even help me. If I were to be found out she could be punished with me.

“Gwen… thank you. I will forever be in your debt,” I exclaim bringing the girl into a tight embrace. “In fact, any coin I earn besides what I need to live on will go straight to you.”

Gwen begins to shake her head. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Nonsense. You deserve it. I know we are going to be friends and you have already done more than enough for me in one night than I could ever do for you.”

Gwen smiles broadly. “Thank you. It will help me very much.”

We continue to talk for a short while after, sorting out the details of my plan as I explain to her my whole predicament, glad to be able to tell someone. Of course, I leave the detail of being from a whole ‘nother time period out, instead replacing it with coming from across the seas as I have told everybody else and that I was taken from my camp after my travelling party was killed and I was trying to make my way here for safety. Gwen believed me readily.

She finished by instructing me what to do through the days which was whatever I pleased around the castle grounds until summoned by a servant or other. I would wear a black cloak, placed in my wardrobe until my face is easily recognisable to the workers in the palace for ease of finding me. Gwen assured me she would bring some of Lady Morgana’s old dress that no longer her fancy so I would have something to wear. I tried to refuse but she insisted Morgana would not mind.

I thank her profusely again as she leaves to go home, well after dark. A servant brought my food up earlier which we shared.

Left alone in my chambers I remove the top layers of my dress finding a linen plain under layer which would have to do as my nightwear until I find something else suitable.

The darkness encroaches on me hauntingly, the lack of artificial lighting leaving me in a dark room with only a few candles. Many times I have instinctively gone to reach for a light switch only to see the stone walls. Besides my candles, there was the moonlight which shone directly through my window. I sit on the ledge on the window and stare into the courtyard and beyond into the city. It was almost empty, a few guards here and there and townsfolk making their way home.

I was about to spend my first night here, in this strange land not knowing what to expect tomorrow. Maybe I would wake up back in my old bed. I sigh deeply, blowing out the last candle, settling myself under my bed’s sheet.

I feel myself falling asleep unsurprisingly as the day behind me was exhilarating.

A bright light shone directly into my face, the sun’s ray pouring right through my glass window. I should be thankful for the lack of curtaining. I probably would not have woken up till midday if I had no sense of time. With no phone or emails to check I exit my bed rather quickly, pulling on my dress from yesterday.

A servant comes through with a cart and hands me one of the plates on it as well as a water jug and bowl. Thankfully Gwen explained to me the jug was for both drinking and washing of the face, taking my ignorance as a difference in culture. I thank the servant who pays me no mind, continuing on his way. My breakfast is an apple, bread and a piece of meat. I grimace, although while grateful, I shudder to think of the hygiene standards in the kitchen. Pushing away my mental images of rats running across the kitchen benches, I dig into my food, gulping it down in oversized bites. I fill the bowl with water, leaning over it to wash my face.

My black cloak flew behind me elegantly, making me keep looking back to marvel at it. I do as Gwen’s says and take the time to wander the grounds while I have no jobs to do. After a few hours or so of walking I have met a few of the staff, talked to Gaius and properly introduced myself and finally gained a sense of direction.

I made my way outside, seeing the knights training from one of the windows, and I want a closer look. Actual sword fighting – I cannot believe it!

I follow a sandy gravel path to the training grounds, taking a seat on a wooden plank overlooking the grounds. There are men I recognise, like Leon, Castor, Torj, and even the blond male from Gaius place. They knights enjoy each other’s company, that much is obvious as I hear the laughter from here. Some fights seem serious though, so intense I am fearful that I am about to watch somebodies death. But of course, once someone is touched by the blade (which I hope where blunt for practice) they return to their playful front.

Castor was fighting a brunette man but he becomes distracted by something my way. His opponent manages to bring his sword to his neck, forcing his victory of Castor. Castor notices and puts his hands up in what I guess is a mock surrender. He then looks back up my way as Leon and the blond man come over to start talking to him. He talks for a second before excusing himself, making his way over to me. I tilt my head in curiosity. The blond and Leon both look my way with the same curiosity, one frowning, the other raising his eyebrows.

“Elena! I see you have already got a position here in the royal household. Must have made quite the impression on Uther,” he exclaims as he nears me.

“Castor, yes it seems I have. Though it wasn’t my intention I assure you, just a lucky event. Although it was a rather embarrassing one,” I admit. Castor snickers, hands resting on my hip.

“Yes, Leon told me about your little uh trip with the King.”

My cheeks heat up almost as bad as they did yesterday. “Yes, as I said. Embarrassing. Do all of the knights know of my misfortune?”

“I think Leon was kind enough to spare you from that humiliation. I’m the only other to know,” he confesses.

“I don’t know whether to thank him or murder him for telling another living soul.” We both laugh. We make small talk for a short while. I ask about how long he had been a knight (for ten years) and some other questions about the training grounds and the knight's duties.

“Some of the knights, mostly the ones that came hunting with us when we found you are going to the tavern tonight if you would like to join us?” I brighten at the idea of talking to these men more, whom I take great interest in but then dimmer again.

“I don’t have any money, I don’t get paid till Sunday,” I admit sorrowfully. He waves his hand as though swatting a fly.

“Nonsense, I have more than enough for the both of us to have a good meal and some mead. And I’m sure the others don’t mind spending their coin on a pretty lady,” he bellows. I feel guilty for wanting it but Castor seems to want me to go.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me. When shall I meet you?”

He grins at my submission to his request. “Tonight, just before dark, meet me in the courtyard and I shall escort my lady down.”

“You know, technically I’m not a lady.”

“Maybe so, but you shall be treated like one.” He doesn’t even try to hide the mischievous smirk off his face. “I should get back to training, I can feel the princes’ eyes on my back from here.” I look behind him and sure enough, there are eye’s boring into him but not the prince’s (who I did not realise was there).

“Actually, I don’t think that the prince’s eyes looking at you,” I mention. Castor follows my gaze to see Leon looking up this way, turning around swiftly as we both look at him.

“Ah, Leon. He’s the king’s most trusted you know. He’s pretty much in charge of most of the knight’s under Arthur of course.” The name catches my attention.

“Arthur?”

“The Prince.” He states. He gives me a final wave before jogging back over to the grounds.

Well strike me down and hand me to my mamma, Arthur. I scan the grounds again, inspecting every person I see for something to show me a royal status but they all look the same. If Arthur was the prince than Merlin should be coming soon if he wasn’t already here. I just had to wait until Arthur’s reign as king. Couldn’t be too long, the King was getting old.

Was I truly going to have to spend years in Camelot? It seems so but it was better than wandering an unknown land with no provision or money. At least here I could make a living for myself and I have already made a few allies.

“Miss Elenor!” I turn at the sound of my name. A young serving girl waved her hand for my attention. I leave my spot before making my way to her.

“You called,” I acknowledge.

“Yes, the lady Morgana wishes for your services, I can take you to her chambers if you are free now.”

“Of course, lead the way.”


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Morgana’s chamber is quite a bit larger than my own. Though, she is a part of the royal household, the King’s ward. Gwen is also present there, brushing her hair. Both turn, hearing the younger servant girl knock and let me in.

“Ah, you must Elena.” Morgana is stunning. Her cheekbones pointed and the eyes portray classic beauty that you would see in a painting. It is off-putting as I stand there with my hair in a basic bun and a sense of imposter syndrome in this dress. Gwen gives me a kind smile as Morgana raises from her seat to her wardrobe.

“Gwen said you needed some dresses. All your belongings raided from you, just horrible.” From her wardrobe, she pulls a handful of different dresses. “Here, take these with you. I don’t wear them much and I’d much rather see them put to use.”

“Thank you, my lady. If there is anything I could do for you, just let me known,” I offer, taking hold of the dresses. Morgana holds up a finger.

“Actually I do. I have this dress here, it’s one of my favourites and I’m afraid I’ve worn it out a bit.” She holds up a long emerald dress, pointing to a hole in the skirt. “I would love if you would be able to fix it up for me.”

“Of course my lady, I shall get straight to the task.”

After assuring my presence was no longer required I retire to my room and pull out the chest of sewing tools.

I spend the next hour or so fumbling with the needle as my childhood sewing sessions slowly come back to me. I didn’t need to bother Gwen with something so simple that I could do myself. Soon, it was patched up thoroughly enough that I am pleased enough to give it back. Sunset was coming soon and I would need to be ready to meet Castor as well, and I would much rather Morgana have her gown back as soon as possible.

It takes a few miss-turns and questioning some people but I find my way back to Morgana’s chambers just as Gwen exits them.

“Oh, how did you go?” Gwen questions, inspecting the dress.

“I think I did fine. This stuff I remember, it's just these foreign fabrics and patterns that will trick me up.” Gwen nods, agreeing with my analysis.

“It looks perfect, couldn’t have done it better myself.” I thank her, knocking on Morgana’s door which still lent open.

“My lady, I have fixed your dress,” I announce. Morgana comes over and inspects it just as Gwen had.

“Thank you, it looks perfect. You can’t even see the stitching.”

“I try my best,” I quip playfully. Morgana laughs shortly.

“Do you have any plans for tonight Elena, I would love for you to accompany me for a while to get to know each other.” I almost can’t resist the kindness behind her words but I remember my promise to meet Castor.

“I would love to my lady but I already have a prior engagement with another. I could come around tomorrow night if that suits you?” I did not want to miss the chance to get to know the kind ward. Morgana doesn’t look disappointed and my decline, instead smiling at my offer for tomorrow.

“That sounds wonderful. Come after you’ve finished your work. I shall be here most of the afternoon.”

“Thank you, I shall see you tomorrow.”

I head straight back to my chambers to get ready to go to the tavern. Instead of dressing up as I might on a night in the town back home, I remove the nice dress and place on one of the simpler ones, a plain red dress. I remove my hair from its bun letting it fall in waves created by the updo and tie back the pieces around my head letting the rest fall.

Although I do not have a mirror I feel much more comfortable, unnatural as it all feels. In just two days I’ve been sent to another time, gotten a job in the palace and met people who I will gladly call my friends. I have met a king, knights and maids and seen things only seen on tv.

I think I am handling it rather well.

The sun is getting low so I gather myself together and make my way to the courtyard where Castor is already waiting for me.

“My lady!” he calls out, a bit too loudly for my liking.

“Shush,” I call back. He laughs, looping his arm with my own.

“Come, most of the knights kicked off early and are already there drinking away.” He drags me through the town as most people are finishing their day’s work and packing up stalls. The town is lit by torches. The tavern stands out, brightly lit by the sign which hangs from its roof. A group of men stand outside it, tankards in their hands as the drunkenly move about, grins stuck on their faces.

We push through them and open the door. The liveliness is almost a physical force that overwhelms me. Men singing near the bar counter with women dancing around, others yelling profusely as the gamble at a table. A familiar laugh sounds from the right and my gaze follows it. I am correct, seeing the now casually dressed knights sitting around a table with plenty of tankards sitting around them. Castor continues to pull me over to them. The blond from the training grounds is the first to see me.

“You must be Elena, they told me they were dragging you along. Didn’t believe it,” he announces.

“And why wouldn’t you believe it?” I snap back with an eyebrow raised but my manner isn’t harsh or rude.

“This isn’t every woman’s favoured place.”

“That may be true for the women of Camelot, but I am not a woman of Camelot,” I quip, taking pride in my wit and take a seat next to the man. “And we don’t seem to have been introduced.” The blond smirks as though he knows something I don’t.

“I’m Arthur.”

Um. Arthur. Like the prince. Uh. I close my eyes tightly then pull them back open.

“Shit.” The table laughs at me but I can’t help but laugh with them.

“Do not worry, here I am just another knight.” I nod gratefully.

Castor sat across from me next to Leon and Torj who I greet cheerfully. “Castor!” I call grabbing his attention, “I believe you said you would buy me a drink,” I smirk. Castor sighs but the smile stays on his face.

“That I did lassie, I’ll be back boys,” he says, leaving to talk to the barman. Arthur turns to me and begins chatting. I suppose I should be nervous talking to the crown prince of Camelot. The man, the myth, the legend but he was somewhat down to earth.

“So how are you liking Camelot so far?” he asks.

“It’s beautiful,” I gush, “nothing like my homeland.”

“Its good to see that you enjoy it here. Are you planning on staying here?” This question I do not know how to answer. I planned to find Merlin or the man who sent me here and find a way home but I could stay here a little longer. When else will I get the chance to visit another time?

“For now yes, I have no way home anyhow.” Castor returns with my drink. I take a large sip, the alcohol hitting my throat warmly but the unexpected taste makes me cough. The knights cackle deeply. “Its different to what I have had,” I defend, giggling at myself as well.

The hour goes by faster than I could imagine and the men start getting hungry.

“I think we should order some dinner,” speaks Torj and the rest agree. I had not had dinner either but the men had already spent their coin on my today and I do not plan on them spending anymore.

“Would you like me to get some food?” Leon offers as I move out of the way to let the others through.

“No its fine, I have food waiting for me back at my chambers,” I lie. Well, a half-lie. The food was in the kitchens where I will sneak into after dark when the cooks leave. Leon nods.

“Alright then.” He moves to the bar with the rest of his group. I wait as the men come back down, waiting for their food the be made and I make conversation with them again.

Soon enough their food comes down but a plate of meat is put in front of me as well. I look up at the barmaid in confusion.

“Excuse me, I didn’t order anything.” The barmaid just raises an eyebrow.

“Well one of them did for you lassie,” she gunts before stalking away. I look around the table for the guilty face and it lands on Castor who holds back a cheeky grin.

“Castor!”

“You want it so eat it,” is his only reply as he stuffs his face with gravy covered meat. Grunting, I dig into my own not bothering to argue. At least it was Castor who already warned me he would be spending his money. I would feel terrible if it was another who didn’t invite me in the first place.

The rest of the night passes gracefully, only with slight drunkenness in the men.

“Let's go gamble the rest of our pay away!” Torj cries, holding his coin sack in the air. The men cheer and scurry over to the game’s area. A yawn creeps up in my mouth.

“I think I’ll retire for the night. Thank you, Castor, for the dinner and drinks.” I announce another yawn showing.

“Would you like one of us to escort you back to your Chamber Elena?” Leon offers. I shake my head.

“No, I will be fine, enjoy the rest of your night,” I say goodbye to the rest of them and exit the tavern into the cooler night air. It was unexpected causing me to shiver.

“Wait. Let me come with you.” The voice belongs to the prince.

“I will be fine, go back and have more fun.”

“I want to go back to the castle myself before I lose all of my money. Besides, I have to get up early in the mornings.”

“Ah yes, all your princely duties,” I tease.

“Of course, I am very important,” he jokes back.

He leads me back to my room, going back and forth teasing each other. I am about the bid him goodnight before a more serious thought enters my head.

“Arthur.” He turns back to me. “Do you have, uh, wizards in Camelot?” I question slowly. He shakes his head.

“No, magic was banished here a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

“Why. Do you practice?” he asks looking me up and down. I shake my head.

“No, I was just wondering since I knew these lands had magic where mine does not.” He nods looking curious.

“Magic here is forbidden, anyone caught using it is executed.”

“Oh. Well, goodnight. And thank you for escorting me.”

“It was no problem, goodnight Elena.”

He walks back to wherever his chambers are and I lay to rest in mine. No magic. Then what about Merlin, surely he exists if Arthur does. But it was possible this isn’t the Arthur of the legend but that would be a very big coincidence considering I was in Camelot.

I would have to put my focus now on the man who sent me here.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The rattling at my door awakens me from a deep sleep.

“Come in,” I croak, getting out of bed. A young servant boy comes in, not the usual who brings my breakfast. “Oh, hello.”

“Seamstress,” he greets, “Your services are requested as urgently as possible.”

After having been here over a week, I have yet to be put to a large task other than mending but Gwen has been able to teach me more of what I need to know. I keep to my word as well and gave her half of my pay, the other half going to necessities such as shoes, my own cloak for travel and other things like a hairbrush. Living in the castle meant my expense of housing and food was taken care of by royalty but my pay was lower than those who housed and fed themselves such as Gwen.

“And who calls for me,” I inquire.

“The King miss.” I look at the boy in slight surprise.

“Oh, urgent indeed. I shall go see him at once after I am ready. Will he be in his chambers?”

“Yes, miss. I will tell him you intend to come soon.”

“Thank you.” The boy paddles out of my room, almost knocking into the serving boy bringing the breakfast cart around.

I dress rather simply today but ensure my hair and presentation is suitable for an audience with the King. I make my way to his chambers, which was on the other side of the castle where Arthur’s chambers were (he requested me already three times in the past week for mending his pants but I do enjoy his company), knocking on the door.

“Enter,” his voice bellows from inside. I take a deep breath in before pushing open the door. To say I am nervous would be an understatement, my fingers twiddling and wringing each other and messing with the band of my satchel which holds my tools. He stands by the window, looking down upon his kingdom, the usual straight face on his head. “Ah, Elena.”

“Your highness,” I curtsey. “What can I do for you?”

“Next week,” he begins, “we are holding a jousting tournament and one of our neighbouring Kings are visiting to see their champions against ours. This man is quite…judgemental,” he admitted. “I would like a new robe for his arrival, one of the finest you will ever make.” Uther obviously wants to impress this man, probably had the other King’s snide words shoved onto him about Camelot and his reign. So real life really is still like High School even in the ancient medieval ages.

“Sire, I shall make a robe like the King has never seen,” I guarantee. He nods his head, even a smile creep onto his face.

“I’m glad.”

“You would like the robe in your house colours My Lord?” I begin taking out my kit to begin measuring.

“Yes, that would be perfect.” The confidence he has in my work to up-show this other ruler is quite funny to me as I can’t help but hide my laughter behind a sly grin.

“He will be drowning in the magnificence of the material,” I holler. To my utter astonishment, he lets out a snort of laughter. I finish writing down his measurements as he places a hand on my shoulder.

“Your manners are infectious young seamstress. I have not had such a servant of the royal household so…. So, different in a very long time,” he admits.

“I hope that this robe will bring you as much happiness as my manners Sire. Will I be able to be present when you greet him?” I inquire, packing my stuff.

“Of course, we can silently judge him together. I am glad that Sir Leon found you.”

“As am I My Lord.”

Rather glad at my interaction with the King, I am eager to start work on his piece. I migrate down to the main market area of the city. As usual, it is bustling with people; travelling traders are the more common stalls. A few fabric stores lie along the road which I have browsed this past week for an idea of what was available to me. Gwen took me along a couple of afternoons pointing out her favourite fabrics. I pass the stalls however and search for a more permanent building near the centre.

I open the door to the front of the shop. It is uncommon for a shop to be inside a housing area or even turned into a full store but the wealthier who did not travel found it a better alternative to a small wooden thing outside which was subjected to the weather.

“Miss Elena!” an elderly woman hollers from the back of the room coming forward, placing her hands on my cheeks. The woman has a blue silk shawl with a simple but elegant dress. She was a fabric maker and had employees that travelled to trade for her to acquire the finest materials – which is just what I need for the king.

“Gorham, it is wonderful to see you again but I’m afraid I’m here on business and not for small talk.” Her smile doesn’t fade, even lightening more.

“O’ right away. Who is it for? Must be important if you come to me,” her voice silky and playful. “Is it a lover, are you making them something? For that man that accompanied you last time, oh what a handsome fellow,” he voice sings as she rattles.

“Actually it is for the Uther Pendragon.” Gorham turns around from her wandering.

“Why that does require my material then! What colours are we searching for?” Her attitude turns more urgent but her mannerism remains.

“Red, the finest you have. And white fur,” I ramble, “and some gold thread.” The image of what I want quickly taking form in my mind.

“It sounds marvellous.”

Gorham is a very intriguing character, almost an odd grandmother or a crazy old lady who is secretly wise. I could see her making weird potions in a forest hut and talking to the wild animals who take refuge in her plant ridden cottage. Whimsical is a word I would use. 

As she is gathering and wrapping the materials that I gush over she starts talking.

“You know, my son used to be a knight,” she mentions.

“Oh really?” My tone stays soft not wanting to ask what happened, fearing a story of his death.

“Yes, sadly he was badly injured in a tournament and couldn’t continue his duties. He travels for me now, trading. He enjoys the work but I can see in his eyes that he misses being a knight.”

Injured. The knights, my friends are most certainly participating in this jousting tournament. They could be hurt. The images go through my head as though replaying a horror movie. Castor on the ground, a horse treading over him. Arthur impaled by a large lance. Leon knocked from his horse unconscious. Torj lying with a broken leg.

“Are you alright dearie?” my focus snaps back to the present.

“Yes, thank you.” I hand her the money which comes from the treasury for royal needs rather than my own pocket.

I wander the market for a little while longer, not quite ready to go back up to the castle and possibly come across the knights. I can’t even think of them without imagining some kind of horrid accident that might occur in the tournament.

“Elena!” a familiar voice calls. I turn to identify it and seeing it belong to Gwen I smile and wave.

“How was your day?” I ask turning into a long conversation about the events of today, both sharing our miseries and delights that come with working in the palace. I show her the material I purchased and the job for me to do.

“I should be able to do this, it’s a simple pattern really but I would love your help with the embroidery and the more intricate parts,” I admit, running my hand over the soft red.

“Is this for the tournament next week?”

“Yes, Uther shared his desire to upstage another King,” I giggle with Gwen.

“Well, we must make it to the best of our abilities. I shall meet you in your chambers at the end of the working day and we can do it together.”

“Are you sure.”

“I would love to help you, besides; you give me way too much money for how much I actually help you.”

“Alright, from tomorrow then?”

“I cannot wait.”

We talk a little more, walking back up to the castle, Gwen carrying a basket of flowers for the Lady Morgana’s room. We pass the window which I find myself looking out of often, as it overlooks the training ground.

“Gwen.”

“Yes,” she hums.

“Do the knights typically get hurt in these tournaments?” I fret.

“It’s not uncommon for one of them to be injured enough to knock them out of the competition but it is not likely that they are hurt permanently. Camelot armour is of a high standard.” My worries dim a little but I still feel it creeping along my face. “Are you worried about them?”

“Don’t tell them that,” I jest, “but yes.” Gwen sighs, joining me in watching them.

“I worry too sometimes but this is their job and I wouldn’t stop them from doing what they love,” she offers.

“Wise words Guinevere.”

As she had promised, Gwen meets me in my chambers as the day begins to darken. I had been able to avoid the knights for the day, not that I want to but I am horrified that I might see them and freak out which would lead to the knights becoming weirded out by me.

Rather, we converse about the traditions of these lands to distract me.

“So Arthur will have to marry a princess? For an alliance?” I question, making sense of what I am being told.

“Yes, at least, Uther will make him and Arthur is a man of duty no matter how arrogant he may be.” Gwen fingers nimbly work a needle through the red cloth as my own stumble over the same moves. “Do you not have these types of marriages?”

“Not really. There are arranged marriages for some people but it depends on your culture. We have two princes who both married for love. Although, I supposed they’re actually Dukes,” I ramble, gazing out my window. “Our royal family runs a bit differently though.”

“So what about your love life? There are some handsome men in Camelot. Any of the knights catch your fancy?” Gwen teases, smirking.

“No,” I laugh, “They are all very handsome indeed but I don’t grow feelings on looks. I have to know somebody to feel something.” Then I think of something regarding the legend. “What about Arthur?”

“Arthur?” she queries, her needlework stopping for a moment. “I mean, Arthur is good to look at but once he opens his mouth you want to swat him.” She shrugs, “Not to mention he has to marry a princess, so I would keep it to yourself if you fancy him.” I cringe at the thought.

“Not for me,” I mimic regurgitating, “I wouldn’t even want to be his servant let alone wife. You, on the other hand, I can see it.” I point out, hoping she would let me in on her long time secret love for the future king. But she acts just as disgusted as me.

“I have the same opinion as you, Elena. Arrogant prat.” She states.

“Yes but you are a strong woman who could handle him,” I rebut.

Arthur was a prat, it is undeniable but he had redeemable qualities about him that I can see will flourish one day to be the legendary king. I, fortunately, met him under the right circumstances (with a bit of alcohol) which led to my current mutual friendship with him. I would never have thought much of him if I wasn’t friends with the knights, probably just would have thought he was a pig and that was that.

“Besides, I don’t believe I will marry.”

“Why not,” Gwen marvels. I think for a moment before answering.

“It’s not something every woman wants where I am from and I have…” I pause for a moment, trying to think of the words, “learnt to be independent. So much so that it would be weird to rely on somebody else. I am my own person, I can’t imagine belonging to somebody else.” I confide.

“Well if you learnt to be independent than maybe you can learn to love another without losing it.” Gwen you smart woman. “Besides, the knights are not required to marry highborn anymore.”

“What is it with me and the knights to you?” Gwen laughs again, a sparkle in her eye that never seems to leave it.

“You are just so attached to them. Like a duckling imprinting on another person,” she insists.

“Are you implying that I am a duck?” I jest.

“You know what I mean.”

We fall into a fit of laughter letting the material go as we banter. But she was true, and I knew my attachment grew from the day I met them. They were the first people I met in this world and you cannot help but follow them. Like a child to its mother.

I was a duck.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was this night that the nightmares started. I wake up in a pile of sweat, dripping down my face and soaking my back. The wetness of my nightdress making the material cling to me in an unpleasant manner. I sit up gasping, as though I am breathing air for the first time, the sheets tightly held in my fists. My legs tangle in my sheets.

My chest heaves as I try to calm myself. Unlike a normal dream, I can recall every single moment of the nightmare as though it wants to continue to taunt me in my awakening. My teeth chatter, feeling an internal chill encases my entire being.

It was everybody I cared about here in Camelot slaughtered in front of my own eyes; just the way I imagined them being hurt the day before but more real. I watched them, person, by person being hurt.

It is still dark outside, the sun nowhere in sight, so I try to lie back down, breathing heavily to calm myself. But I just can’t rest; tossing and turning as the scenarios insistently cling to my mind.

Soon, I can’t stand lying there with worry drowning me so I shove my sheets off and light a candle. I pull open my bedroom door and glance into the corridor. The hall became much eerier with the lack of daylight and no candles were lit as it is too late for anybody to be out except the few unlucky guards that patrolled.

Taking the candle with me, I tip-toe down the corridor where their chambers were. I have an idea whose room is where but the dark makes it harder to get a feel for where I am.

I go the closest wooden door, gently creeping the door open. I lift the candle through the frame and peek through the small opening. The room was slightly larger than my own, with clothes thrown on the floor and the chair. Easily recognisable as Torj’s room and I prove myself right when the barely showing red hair peeks from his blanket which is tucked over his head.

In my dream, he was shoved off a cliff, collapsed at the base with his leg in two but he is here in his bed. Safe.

I move away, closing the door as quietly as I opened it.

The next room is Castor’s who is lying in his bed the wrong way, leg hanging over the edge. I smile tenderly but roll my eyes as his obnoxious snore tears through the room. He is definitely safe.

The room across was Leon’s. I do the same, opening the door, looking through with my candle. My heart drops as he looks like he did in my dream. Unconscious, knocked from his horse, bleeding out on the ground. That’s what I see as I watch him in his bed. I hold my breath but my prayers are answered as he rolls over. Safe. A small giggle escapes me as his face morphs into the pillow, dragging one side of his face up, his blonde curls sticking up.

I shut the door and turn to go back to my room but one more face haunts me enough to stop. Arthur’s.

He is on the other side of the castle and at this point, the chill of the night has reached me but my feet melted in the floor. I know if I tried to go back to sleep now I would be lying awake for the rest of the night. Exhaling, I turn back around and make my way to the prince’s chamber.

“I feel like such a stalker right now,” I mumble to myself. I mean, really, I am walking around the castle at night watching people sleep for my own satisfaction and comfort. Maybe I was a serial killer in my past life, one of those that watched their victims from afar. Man I miss Netflix

Wow, my thoughts are morbid at night.

I take a couple of wrong turns, but eventually, end up in the hallway of the Prince. From the outside, his door was the same as my own but his room is much larger, a king-sized bed and even his own dining table unlike a short round one the knights and I have.

To my relief, my excessive and now redundant anxiety calming itself, Arthur lays sprawled across his oversized bed, snoring just as Castor was.

Finally, I can go back to my room in content.

My feet move swiftly across the stone floor, turning a corner. I bump into another solid object. A shriek jumps from my mouth and the candle falls to the floor. The object I just knocked also to the ground lets out a similar sound. Our eyes meet, both wide and confused.

“Elena?” the feminine voice asks, one I recognise.

“Morgana?”

“Yes, what are you doing up so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” I retort. We both sit on the floor for another moment, not answering each other before collecting ourselves. “It seems we both have midnight habits.”

“Yes,” she nods, her face mouth pulled back as though trying to smile but not quite there. “We should probably both go back to sleep.”

“That we should my lady.”

I had come to like the Lady Morgana very much. I held my promise to her and had met with her that one afternoon and we had talked till the moon was high in the sky. I gladly call her a friend. I go to part ways but she places her hand on my arm.

“Would you,” she hesitates, closing her eyes, “would you spend the night with me. I don’t want to be alone.” Her face portrays a sense of shame which I want to wash away.

“Of course,” I place my hand over hers. “Anything you need.”

“Thank you.”

Morgana leads me to her chamber, which was just as large as Arthur’s. I don’t know if it’s weird in this time to share a room with another woman, if people would assume something or if it’s something that isn’t done. But it was Morgana that insisted so I would think that it would be ok.

“This is ok, right? I don’t know if people usually do this here.” I ask just to make sure.

“People won’t think anything of it. Besides, Gwen wakes me up early so you can go back to your chambers before most of the castle is awake.”

Morgana’s words comfort me as we enter her room. We lie down on her bed that was exceptionally more snug than my own with thick blankets compared to my regular sheets. My mouth lets out an ungodly moan as I sink into the sea of blankets. Morgana laughs, sinking next to me.

“Why would you ever leave this bed?”

“I ask myself every day.”

My head rests against her shoulder, her own against my head. My eyes feel heavier than they have for a long time; thoughts of my friends hurt nowhere near my mind.

“Good morning – Oh!”

Gwen enters the room, already dressed and ready for the day. I suck in a breath in a breath as I wake up unexpectedly. Morgana, unlike me, is already awake and sitting against her window.

“Good morning Gwen, I have some things to attend to today,” she calls as she walks over to her changing area which has a screen. Gwen walks over to her wardrobe, bringing out a purple dress, hanging it over the screen for Morgana to take.

“Elena, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Gwen muses, setting up the table for breakfast.

“Morgana and I had a late-night adventure,” I tell her, glancing at the sun slowly getting higher. “And I better get back to my chambers if I want to catch breakfast.”

“In your nightgown?” Gwen asks astounded. I am indeed in my nightgown but I didn’t really have a chance to grab my clothes. “Here, Morgana, would it be alright for Elena to borrow a cloak?”

“Go ahead.”

Gwen heads to the wardrobe again, revealing a velvet red cloak.

“Here,” she hands it to me, “you might want to go back to your chambers before the knights are up. They have early morning practice.”

“Thank you, Gwen, and you Morgana.”

I pull the cloak over myself an exit her chambers. I feel naked, the cool air brushing against the cloth. I walk as fast as I can on the top of my feet, passing by a servant who doesn’t say anything but keeps their head down. I feel like I’m doing a walk of shame here.

I almost make it back to my chambers, reaching the hallway with minimal interaction. But to my dismay, Torj, Leon, and Castor who I have dubbed the three stooges in my head are walking, dressed in their chainmail ready for the day.

Castor notices me first.

“And what do we have here?” he bellows, smirking. The other two join in on inspecting my condition as I pull the cloak around my front. “What have you been up to Elena?”

“I was… out last night.” That really does not help my case.

“If you wanted me lassie all you had to do was ask,” Torj smirks, I scoff, stepping forward to whack his arm. He winces away from my arm, the grin still planted on his face. “Alright then,” he surrenders. His accent has a Scottish ring to it.

“If you men would excuse me I have to get back to my chambers.”

“Maybe we should be looking out for a man with an overly-happy face in training. Or maybe a servant,” Torj continues as I was stepping to the side of them.

“Torj!” I exclaim, hitting his armoured arm again, which probably caused me more pain than him. “I was not with a man.” He mocks surrender again.

“Leave her alone Torj,” Leon sighs, placing a hand on his mates shoulder, although he had a small smile at the antics.

“Tell that to the man she was with Leon.” That boy just couldn’t stop. Leon rolls his eyes.

“Or maybe I’ll just get him to rip your tongue out for me,” I tease. His face lights up.

“So you were! Less than a month you dirty woman.” I could not hold it in at the sounded of his teasing accompanied by his accent, feeling myself laugh to my heart’s content.

“Go! Before Arthur chases you up and finds me here as well,” I order them. The three laugh and do as I say, travelling out to the training grounds. 

I make it to the end of the hallway with no more interruptions, and quickly dress in very plain, beige attire with a red overlay. I place the red cloak over my chair to remind myself to return it to Morgana.

With not much else to do, I move my desk to the window so I could sit on it, looking out over the courtyard and continue sewing together the King’s robe, my feet resting on my desk. I am forever thankful for the designs of most windows in rooms, with a small stone ledge as a perfect place to sit. I could open my window but I felt like I would be terrified to come to close and stumble over the edge. Lady Morgana had a small balcony on hers.

I know Gwen lives down in the town with her father who is a blacksmith. I will have to visit her one day and meet the man who raised a wonderful girl.

I decide I will do as much as I can on the robe as my mind and fingers (and skill) allow and then go for a walk down to the orchard on the other side of the grounds. From when I have passed it, the peacefulness and tranquillity drew me in. A place I could really use after last night. I could allow myself to think there undisturbed for a while, maybe figure out a proper plan for myself.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“This looks amazing Elena,” Gwen gushes. The tournament is in two days and I have finally finished Uther’s robe. A dark red cape, lined in white fur with gold embroidery for the house of Pendragon.

“Thank you, Gwen. I couldn’t have done it without you.” It is true. Gwen taught me over the past week how to do finer details. I would have never been able to create something like this before. The pattern is simple enough but it is the finer details that stood out. “I shall go give it to him now, make sure he likes it in case I need to change anything.”

“He won’t.” Gwen looks out over the courtyard through my window. “Look, some of the other knights have arrived, the ones going into the tournament.” I move to mimic Gwen, staring out the window. Sure enough, there is a ballad of men, mixing of house colours from black to blue to white.

“Do you know who any of them are?”

“No,” Gwen mumbles, squinting to see them. “I recognise the colours but the faces aren’t something we usually try to remember. I leave that to Morgana.”

“I barely remember the people working in the castle name’s,” I chime in. The men dismount their horses, as the familiar red cloaks come into view. Arthur stands beside his father as Uther presumably greets his guest, the knights of Camelot standing to the side.

I am still terrified for the knights. I know that they do this for a living, a Leon said he had participated in many tournaments over the years but I had never watched one. I never even watched boxing or wrestling back home. I stuck to the gardening shows.

Servants bustle about, assisting the men with their equipment.

“Why are they here so early? Its only Friday, the tournament doesn’t start till Sunday,” I inquire.

“Most will arrive on Saturday afternoon, some of the kingdoms from further away travel earlier to get here in plenty of time.”

I thank Gwen again for her help, folding the robe as best I could, making my way to the King’s chambers once he has seen his guests to their accommodation.

I stand outside, always nervous to enter so I knock right away to prevent my anxiety grow out of control.

“Enter,” his voice booms. I open the door with my back, holding the robe in both hands.

“Your highness, I have the robe for you.”

“Elena, “ he greets, “Good, I was getting worried I would not be able to wear it tomorrow.”

“I hope it is to your liking.”

I unfold the robe, letting it fall. Uther walks over, inspecting the robe, running his hand down the fabric. “It is a fine robe indeed,” he observes, “Let me put it on.”

He turns around, letting me drape it over his neck and shoulders, then moving to the front to clasp is shut with a broach engraved with a dragon’s head which I had found at the market. He sighs deeply, sinking into its admittedly heavy material. He strides over to the mirror in his room, the first I have seen since being here. I have been using reflections to see myself.

Seeing it on the King only emphasised its regency, the only thing needed was his gold crown. I smile, proud of my work as Uther turns around.

“Simply beautiful,” he says tartly. Unclasping the clip he hangs it on a hook near his wardrobe. “I cannot wait to wear it tomorrow.”

“I am glad.” Glad that I do not have to fix it. My fingers are red from constantly poking and raw from the rubbing. I might see Gaius if he has anything. I imagine Gwen’s fingers are just the same.

“Your work has proven to me that my decision was made correctly,” the King reckons, “I admit I was rash in offering a stranger a position here in Camelot. We have had dealings with spies and people not saying who they actually are.” I bite my lip to stop my face from moving. “But I am glad I did.”

“Thank you, Sire. I am forever in your debt for providing me with a home and a job.” Uther nods, not hearing the unsure tone of my voice.

I leave his chambers glad to be out. Now, the guilt of my situation piles onto me. I have been lying to everybody I care about here and the king. Never will I be able to come out truthful, or I would likely be hung or exiled.

The next day comes around fast enough and soon I am standing near Gwen and Morgana on the steps to the Courtyard, along with Arthur, Uther, and most of the Camelot knights greeting the large horde of men arriving to compete.

Uther welcomes them all kindly, offering a feast tonight for goodwill. But the air shifts as a small parade of men in dark blue and silver clothing arrive, their leader on a black horse.

The leader dismounts his horse and walks up to Uther, who stands taller, his chest proud in the air. The robe that Gwen and I had made sitting on his shoulders. I glance around the courtyard as the men on horses sit silently. Almost everybody of Camelot, including Castor, Torj, and Leon who stand together near the King have a stern appearance. Leon even has his right hand resting over the hilt of his sword which I have noticed is a habit of his when he feels insecure in his environment.

“Who are they?” I whisper to Gwen and Morgana. Morgana leans over.

“That is King Richard and his men. They are quite barbaric yet highly disciplined. Like a pack of trained wolves. They’ve cause Camelot a fair bit of grief in the past.” She whispers back. That explains Leon’s actions, he doesn’t trust them. I don’t either.

The feast is tonight, which I have no original plans on attending but my lack of jobs leads me to Morgana’s chambers.

“You must attend. It is your first feast in Camelot!” she exclaims, throwing her arms around. “Besides, you will get a chance to meet the knights and they are usually rather handsome.” I glare playfully at her as Gwen laughs to the side, gathering dresses for Morgana to try on.

“First of all, I wouldn’t even be an official guest. I would be standing to the side for most of it.”

“But technically you are not a servant and I am inviting you so you are.”

“And second,” I add with a pointed look, “I look hideous today. I have been sweating from standing in the sun, my hair is a mess and my good dresses require a desperate wash which I should really do tonight.”

“Nonsense.” She picks up a dark red dress. “Red is your colour, so try this on,” she insists. I glare at her but listen to her command and take the dress and get changed behind her screen.

“Are you going, Gwen?” I call out as I pull the dress on.

“Yes, I enjoy Camelot’s feasts. I’ll be with Morgana for the night as a servant though.” She doesn’t sound upset at the thought of serving, however.

“You know you are free to talk and drink among the other guests as well Gwen,” Morgana tuts.

“As you tell me every time My Lady,” Gwen’s light voice replies.

The red dress sits nicely on me, the corset and ties loose, unable to reach them. The lack of mirrors is starting to get to me now as I have no way of judging myself but having to trust the opinion of my friends.

“How do I look?” I ask timidly, coming from behind the screen. Gwen’s eyebrows raise as she looks me up and down and Morgana smirks.

“You’ll blow their feet out from underneath them,” she teases causing me to blush the same colour as my dress and giggle. “Who knows, maybe our Elena might not stay in Camelot if a knight sweeps her off her feet tonight.”

“Oh, please,” Gwen rebuts, “Elena is attached at the hip to our knights and nothing could change that.”

“Nothing but love,” Morgana smirks.

“Standing right here you know,” I jest, hand on my hip. “But Gwen is right. I have not intentions of leaving Camelot. Especially not for a man.”

I go back behind the screen and change back into my dress from before, switching places with Morgana who gets changed into a deep purple gown. She comes out, giving us a twirl.

“It’s beautiful but I think you should try on this one as well.” Gwen hands her a royal blue gown with gold linings.

“What are you wearing Gwen?” I ask the handmaiden. She waves her hand.

“I have plenty of gowns at home suitable for tonight.”

Morgana comes back around from her screen in the blue dress. I gasp, hands hovering over my mouth.

“It's stunning my lady,” I utter. It truly is, the sleeves falling out into bell sleeves, and the material was light enough to flow like running water. “However, the dress would fall short if it wasn’t for your beauty that makes it,” I tease.

“Stop it,” she laughs, blushing as I did. I grin, knowing I made her feel good.

“You lot have been teasing me but how about you Morgana. Any men – may I suggest Arthur – take you interest?” I know Morgana and Arthur have a stressed relationship, more so like siblings but I love to tease.

“I think I might vomit,” she announces from her screen, coming back dressed as she was before. My hands sting again, as I raked them over the wooden table.

“I have to go see Gaius, but I shall meet with you two before the feast.” I bid them farewell, taking the red dress, leaving to make my way to the physicians home.

Gaius isn’t too far from my room so I take a quick detour to put the dress away before making my way back down.

I knock on his door. “Come in,” his rough voice calls. I enjoy the man’s company, often finding him wandering around and making conversation with him. He likes to talk about different herbs he has been trying lately, which made no sense to me – all I know is Panadol and Advil, but hearing him speak with enthusiasm was endearing in itself.

“Gaius, how are you doing today?” I greet.

“Elena, my dear. Today has been busy, some of my things have been misplaced and I’ve spent all day looking for them.” He mumbles, eyes searching through the cabinets. “What can I do for you?”

“Do you have anything to soothe skin?” I ask, rubbing my fingers softly, “from my needlework.”

Gaius comes over, gently grabbing my hands to have a look.

“I do, and from memory, it should be over here –ah!” he grabs a small vial. “Dab this on a cloth and rub it over any affected area to soothe it. You don’t need a lot but use it whenever the pain flares up.”

“Thank you, Gaius,” I thank, taking the vial. “I shall talk with you later.”

I bid him goodbye, making my way back to my chambers. As I pass through an open corridor I once again, meet with the knights.

“Elena, are you attending the feast?” Leon asks, his mood much better than when I last saw him.

“I wasn’t but Morgana convinced me to,” I hum.

“Ah, so I better go thank Morgana then. Your presence will make it bearable,” Castor torments making me scoff.

“You’ll be using me to make the other woman jealous that you are not talking to them.” I know Castor to well at this point. He puts his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got me.”

“What have you got there?” Torj motions to the vial, his eyes widening. “I told you boys, she’s sneaking the men something to get her ways. I bet she’s taking their money after she knocks them out. It’ll be us next!” That man just won’t let it go, will he?

“Yes, I’m secretly a thief come to knock out men and take their wallets,” I reply, heavy on the sarcasm.

“Well, we have to keep moving but we’ll see you at the feast, Elena,” Leon says, smiling.

“Keep your coins close Torj, it just might be you next,” I say seriously as I pass them. He looks back at me, fear in his eyes as I see his hand go down to his side where I knew they kept their money, making me laugh out loud as Leon knocks him. “What would I do without them?” I mutter to myself.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The feast is going to begin soon so I head back to my chambers after wandering the town for a while. I couldn’t buy anything, the money I kept going straight toward necessities with little to spare but over time I would have enough to buy something nice.

I remove my beige dress, being sure to stay away from my window. I pull the red dress over my head. It has similar styling to Morgana’s, but the bell sleeves are shorter and less drapey in length. It lacked any elaborate linings or embroidery, instead, accented by a silver chain belt.

I, however, forgot to foresee that I would need assistance in putting this on, made for someone with a servant, not someone who had to dress themselves. I waddle over to the window, desperately looking over my shoulder at my faded reflection. I don’t want to take it back off, redress myself and have Gwen and Morgana help put it on me.

My arms flail in odd and slightly painful angles, trying to tie the cords but my coordination isn’t my best attribute. I huff, letting my arms fall back to their sides. I am supposed to be meeting the others soon. I reach around my back again, trying a different way.

Someone knocks at my door, making me pause.

“Uh. Who is it?” please be Gwen.

“It’s Leon, may I come in.” Well, this may be awkward but I am desperate.

“Can you tie knots well?” I ask. I can almost feel the confusion from him.

“Um, yes I believe I can.”

“Then come in.” the door opens as he peaks through, as I had guessed, his face filled at curiosity at my activities that would require knotting. He sees me, arms bent and his eyes widen.

“I’m sorry, I can grab somebody for you –“ he starts, walking backwards to the door, cheeks red.

“It's fine. I just need you to tighten off the back. Can you do that?”

He hesitates, before nodding and coming over. I guess this is quite improper but at this time I could care less, just wanting to have this dress done up. I turn around, letting my arms drop by my side as his finger fumble around.

“I’ve never done this before but I’ll try my best,” he offers and I feel the ropes tightening, going up my back. We stand there in silence as he works the dress up.

“Leon, what did you need?”

“Sorry?” he seems confused, thoughts caught by the knots.

“You came to my chambers for me. I assume you wanted something.” The last knot is tied off, his hands dropping away. “Thank you.” I turn back around to look at him, face redder than before.

“Oh, yes.” He clears his throat. “I was wondering if you would like me to escort you to the feast.”

That takes me by surprise, not having even thought about such an idea. “Do people usually have someone escort them to these things?”

“Sometimes, if they have a person offer. It is more proper for women of nobility but of course, anybody who is attending can be escorted but it's not necessary at all.”

That is sweet of him to offer, but I remember my promise to the girls.

“I would love for you to escort me but I promised to meet someone earlier. But if you don’t mind I would love to talk to you through the feast. I’m not really sure what I should do there,” I say, not wanting to turn down his offer.

“Of course, but it may be considered rude to leave the person escorting you behind,” he notes.

“I’m sure they won’t mind,” I smirk. He must think another has already asked me – ah yes, the most handsome Morgana and his squire. I laugh at the thought of Morgana with a beard. “I look forward to tonight but I must admit, I am a little nervous. There is going to be a lot of people I don’t know.”

“You will be fine,” Leon comforts, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I will be there, the other knights will be there. I think Torj would cause a ruckus if you asked him to.” We both laugh, knowing the truth behind the words. Torj is a complete and utter softy who would lay down his life for his friends.

“Thank you. Again.” Leon does a little head bow, exiting my chambers as I go to redo my hair but the door opens again.

“You look beautiful by the way.” And before I can reply, the door closes again, my face heating up. 

I reluctantly put my hair up in a braid as my arms ache from holding them up. Luckily I had used the oil Gaius had given me so my fingers are not as sore. I pat myself down, feeling ready to go. Slipping on one of the only two pairs of shoes I own, I skip to Morgana’s chambers, passing knights and servants dressed for the feast. I even passed Arthur who had scrubbed up quite a bit.

Morgana and Gwen look beautiful as ever, peppered up more than usual. The nerves mix with the excitement bubbling together in my stomach as we walk towards the grand hall where the feast is being held.

Inside, is more than I imagined. Torches lined the walls, lighting up every inch of the hall. Jolly music was being played (live of course) and people stood around, talking loudly with each other. It was a sea of colours, everybody wearing their house colours. Servants stand to the side or near their master, dressed finer than they would for normal duties. A long table split the hall down the middle, on it, piles of food, like a Hogwarts feast. The party has started much earlier than we arrived.

“Are we late,” I whisper to Morgana, which wasn’t that softly to be heard over the music.

“Fashionably,” she replies tartly, smirking. “I am going to go speak to Uther and Arthur, so go do as you wish for now Gwen. And Elena, try to enjoy yourself. Drink, eat, talk. It is a feast after all,” she tells us pointedly before walking away.

“I say we better listen to her,” I warn Gwen who chortles at my fear of Morgana. I watch her move towards the head of the table, many eyes following her from both men and women. It is undeniable that Morgana is one of the most beautiful women here tonight and I won’t admit it out loud but envy makes a mark in my stomach.

Gwen is soon pulled away by a foreign knight, leaving me alone, standing rather awkwardly. I search the room for a familiar face. A mop of blonde hair next to a head of dark curly hair on top of red cloaks is visible on the other side of the room, talking to two other foreign knights, drinks in their hands.

I begin to make my way over there but a face suddenly appearing in front of me makes me stop.

“My Lady, I saw you alone and thought I might offer you some company,” the young man says, holding up a goblet for me.

“Thank you,” I say, taking the goblet. “But I must tell you I am no lady.”

“Certainly not! You could not be a servant with that beauty,” he flatters playfully.

“In a way I am. I am the seamstress for the people of the castle,” I remark, taking a sip of the fine wine. “I am Elenor by the way.” I hold out a hand to shake.

“Daniel.” But instead of shaking it as I expected, he takes it, kissing my knuckles. While Daniel has been nice enough so far, the action makes me cringe internally. I find myself not enjoying affection from people who I am not yet comfortable with but I put a smile on my face to hide it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elena.”

“As it is you.”

We start walking together around the hall, getting to know each other. He tells me about his kingdom and what it was like. I open up to him, telling him of my newness to Camelot and what I have done here so far. His adventures seem marvellous compared to my own.

“Tell me, you stood alone when I found you. We’re you not escorted tonight?” he enquires.

“I was asked but I turned him down as I told my friends I would be coming with them who have run off now. But I promised to accompany him later tonight instead”

“Which is the man that you must leave me for?” My brow furries as I search back through the crowd. Leon was now talking with another knight in the blue and silver house colours. I point him out to Daniel. “Sir Leon?”

“You know him?” I ask surprised.

“Yes, well enough. We have competed many times together. He is a good man. And bloody good with a lance.” He rubs his chests as though recalling a memory. Then his eyes squint, moving ever so slightly. “However, that man he is with is not.”

“I saw them arrive,” I begin, recalling this afternoon. “It seems everybody has something against them.”

“Yes, I suppose inviting them is Camelot’s attempt at trying to make peace. But it won’t work.” He holds his arm out for me to take. “Come, we must save Sir Leon from him.” He states mischievously. I grin, taking his arm.

Arm in arm we stride up to the pair. As we get closer, I make out more of the man’s features. Dark hair that is greased over to one side, skin that seems to be engraved with dirt. His eyes are narrow and calculating, looking Leon up and down. Leon looks uncomfortable, his posture tall and sturdy compared to his usual relaxed nature.

“Sir Leon!” Daniel sings, catching the attention of both men. Leon’s eyes brighten up at the sight of two familiar faces.

“Sir Daniel, it has been a while.” They clasp their hands in greeting. The other man, who I will call ‘greasy’ stares at us with the same unreadable expression as before. “I see you have met Elena.”

“I have indeed, an interesting maiden,” his arms rest around my shoulder.”

“Is this the man who escorted you tonight? I didn’t know you had met Daniel,” he questions. I shake my head.

“No, I came with Morgana and Gwen but they ditched me earlier. Daniel was kind enough to accompany me for a while,” I explain, smiling at both men. Daniel looks over Leon’s shoulder at the other man, who is, still, standing there. Daniel’s eyebrows raise with a comical look before lowering back to Leon’s.

“Sir Knight… I’m afraid I must steal you, friend, here,” he speaks slowly, addressing the man whilst pulling Leon away. Greasy doesn’t even move, just stands there watching us until we are out of sight.

“That was the creepiest thing I’ve seen in a while,” I state once we are out of his line of sight. Leon lets out a huff nodding.

“You can tell me. The man just started questioning me absolute jibberish.” He looks around. “Uther must be desperate for some kind of peace with him.”

“Makes sense whys there's so much nobility here. Usually, it's just a few knights sent to these things. I feel like we’re feeding an army,” Daniel adds. Two hands unexpectedly land on both my shoulders making me jump and let out a little squeal that is rather embarrassing. I turn my head around to see Castor’s joyous face grinning widely.

“Castor! Don’t do that to me” I screech, holding my heart, I look at the two men who were already standing in front of me. “Thanks for the warning.”

“Elena, its your time to shine,” he slurs making the three of us very confused.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Make the other girls jealous.” He leans down to whisper in my ear but being intoxicated, it ends up rather like a scream. “They are already looking. Our looks combined will be unstoppable.”

“Castor you’re drunk.” I pause for a moment, thinking back to the tavern. “But you know what, a drunk Castor, is a fun Castor. Let’s go.” I let the drunk boy drag me away to dance and eat to our heart's content, waving to Daniel and Leon who stood there looking perplexed.

The rest of the night is spent spinning in circles, laughing our butts off as Castor didn’t have a care in the world and I spent my time enjoying this, not caring about the thoughts of others. I’m not nobility, meaning I do not have a reputation to uphold as they do. We passed Torj who was also slightly drunk and he joined us, dancing around and stuffing food in our mouths.

Eventually, they leave me to sit around, feeling the regret of their decisions and I have spent enough time at the feast to be content back in my bed. So tiredly, I walk back to my chambers, yawning every few steps. I almost make it back before realising that my dress is tied. Gwen and Morgana were nowhere to be found at the feast, likely to have left earlier than I did. Leon was sober enough but I think it might be much to improper to ask such a thing. Besides he was still enjoying his night and I don’t want to pull him away from it.

So making it back to my chambers, I flop on the bed face first. I groan, trying to reach my arms around my back, but failing miserably, instead, falling asleep face first.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Morning comes around much too fast for my liking, the sun poking my cheeks. I prop my head up, moaning. Hair strands flying all over the place, much like the image of Anna from frozen waking up, slobber on the side of my mouth. Still wearing last night’s dress, I just thank the lords that I am no hungover, rejecting any drink bar my first, instead of indulging myself in the food.

Gathering the energy, I push myself up from my bed, which I had just sprawled across last night. I spend the next twenty or so minutes, just reaching around, pulling at the strings to undo the dress which, while difficult, was not as impossible as doing them up.

Today was the tournament, which would start soon after breakfast, so I quickly dress myself up, taming my hair into submission. I want to see the knights before they compete to wish them luck. But also to assure myself they are going to be safe. The tournament has shaken the fear of my nightmares into reality.

I make my through the castle to get to the back area, near the training grounds where the jousting would be held. I pass the window that shows me the grounds, seeing many tents erected, people moving about to prepare, horses being led from the stables. It almost reminds me of an eventing day for horse riding. I used to ride horses but didn’t have the property to keep them.

As I make my way outside, the atmosphere of the crowd is overwhelming, I can practically feel the energy, nerves mixed with excitement jostling from every direction fuelling me with adrenaline. The tents seem to be the colours of the houses, a sea of green, blue and red tents. I push my way through the crowd to the red tents on the other side.

I finally come closer to them, but there are a few, spread out. Servants go in and out of each of them, holding armour and lances to help the knights get ready. I decide to go into the far right one first. I push open the flap, revealing its insides. There is a table, with a few pieces of armour lying about and a servant who is sorting through them. Standing in the middle of the tent is Prince Arthur and I realise this is the royal tent.

“Prince Arthur,” I greet happily. “I have just come down to wish you all good luck.”

“Elena,” he greets back, “Thank you for your wishes but be assured that I don’t need them.” The arrogance in his voice shows. I roll my eyes, sure to avoid him seeing. I did love Arthur, but sometimes he just has no idea what a prat he can be. But he’ll grow up one day. Boys are slower than girls.

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t,” I smirk, watching the servant quietly tighten his arm piece. “Do you know-“

“There in the tent right next to this one,” he replies, now his turn to smirk. I laugh, bowing my head.

“Thank you. And don’t hurt yourself, egos can be heavy,” I provoke, moving out of the tent.

“Hey!-“I hear, but he is soon cut off. I feel comfortable enough to joke around with him but I know my limits, and that was testing them. I move to the tent next to his own which is slightly larger, probably to accommodate more people.

I enter it, seeing much the same as the royal tent, but more people. A few knights I recognise but don’t know stand around, donned in their chainmail. I see Castor first who is fully dressed and ready.

“Come to wish us luck have you?” he asks coming over to me, leaning down into my ear. “Don’t worry, I know you’re just here for me but you better wish the others luck as well. Wouldn’t want them to get jealous.”

“Please,” I push his shoulder away, catching the eye of my other two friends who are having their armour adjusted. “I’ve only come to see Torj,” I tease, standing near the redhead who smiles proudly.

“See boys!” he sneers, “Always knew I was the favourite.” The other two huff, rolling their eyes just as I did to Arthur. Speaking of.

“I just spoke to Arthur,” I begin unsurely. “He’s very… confident.”

“Arthur is good at what he does, and he knows it,” Leon says, “Even if he does let it get to his head sometimes,” he adds, tilting his head to the side.

“I’ve come to wish you all luck,” I tell them, but point my finger at them all. “But also to warn you.”

“To warn us?” Leon asks bemused.

“Yes, to warn you.” I put my hands on my hips, holding my serious face. “You see, if one of you get hurt I am going to have to go find that person to get them back for it but we all know I would lose in a fight against a knight which would mean that I would end up getting hurt.” The boys stand there wide-eyed. “So, if you get injured then you are in turn getting me hurt,” I finish. Leon and Castor take a moment to render my words.

“Well!” Torj puts his hands on his hips, much like my own, “We can’t have that, can we? Not with that logic”

“Certainly not,” Castor laughs, “don’t worry lassie, we are great at jousting.” Leon lets out a huff of disbelief.

“You? Good at jousting?” his mouth turning into a half-smirk. “I think you are the worst jouster I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen some pretty bad ones.” Castor acts offended, hand on his chest in hurt.

“Leon, I’m offended.”

The boys continue to torment each other, and I join in, throwing insults gladly at all three of them. A serving boy comes in after a while.

“The tournament is about to begin for the first rounds,” he announces before exiting and moving onto the next tent. I look to my boys before racing to Castor for a hug. He hugs me back gladly, patting my head like a child. I let go of him, wrapping my arms around Torj who picks me up, spinning. Finally, I hug Leon around his neck, head resting on his chest. I squeeze him tightly before letting go, allowing them to leave for their horses.

I escort myself to the podiums, finding Gwen amongst them. We greet each other, finding a spot to sit where most of the general crowd is gathering.

The first rounds go by fairly quickly, knocking out the inexperienced knights. I am thankful that the contestants ride with their helmets off, acknowledging Uther as the host before putting it on, otherwise I would not be able to recognise anybody. Leon is one of the earlier contestants, against a knight from who knows where.

“Woo!” I cheer, hollering into the air as he wins, Gwen gladly joining me as we scream like young girls. There are more Knights of Camelot that go through then I see Castor’s familiar face, a childish grin planted on it.

They line their horses up, preparing themselves. Galloping at each other, Castor completely misses, instead, being knocked right off his horse into the ground. I gasp, covering my mouth, watching him on the ground, my heart dropping into my stomach. To my relief he immediately gets up, waving at the crowd. I sigh, shaking my head at him.

“He is terrible,” I avow to Gwen, who nods her head in agreement.

We watch a few more rounds go past. I recognise the greasy-haired man, his face still never changing. He prepares for his round against an unrecognisable Camelot knight. My eyes flicker between the two, glad that it wasn’t my friends against him but feeling selfish at that thought.

The two charge at each other. The Camelot knight takes a hit to his shoulder but remains on his horse. The crowd stays uncharacteristically quiet. Greasy’s horse stomps the ground, indenting it as they line back up again. The second charge has the Camelot soldier hit cleanly across his chest, knocking him backwards, but still in the saddle. Greasy wins.

Arthur competes soon, winning his round with ease, as well as Torj who seems equally skilled.

The end of the first few rounds comes around lunchtime, where food is being served by numerous vendors taking advantage of the gathering. Gwen offers to buy me some food which I graciously accept, my coin pouch feeling quite light. We eat away, munching down on the food which was a luxury to us.

“I’ve never seen anything like that! It was so intense, and all they did was run at each other with oversized poles!” I rant to Gwen. I was thinking it was going to be like football or hockey, a sport where people who don’t play or enjoy the sport just really didn’t get the hype, complaining to their partners that they care about it more than them. But I had just watched people get knocked off their horses, crowds booing and cheering their favourites and carnival-like atmosphere. But it was much more intense and I found myself cheering with the crowd, at one point, nearly knocking over poor Gwen when Leon had a victory after a tough round.

“You don’t have anything like this in Mearth?” she asks. I almost forgot that the place I ‘came from’ is Mearth, making me pause for a moment before answering.

“No,” I shake my head. “We have other sports but nothing like this. Come on, we should go see how they are doing.”

The part we just watched was apparently the heats and the Quarter Finals, Semi and Finals were to come after lunch. Torj, Leon, and Arthur are still in the running, with Castor having his unglamorous loss in the very first round.

We find them, outside their tents eating food as they talked. Gwen and I greet them, congratulating them for their efforts. Castor rolls his eye – yes eye, at us.

“What in the world happened to you?” I ask astounded, reaching to touch his black eye which is swollen shut. “I don’t remember seeing you get hit in the face.” He only grumbles, shuffling away from my hand. “Did somebody hurt you?” the concern now leaking in my voice as I look at the rest of our company to see if their faces or voices can tell me anything. They, however, just stood around with smirks on their face. Leon looks the most vulnerable to not being able to keep a secret from me.

“Leon, you know what happened? Tell me,” I demand. He goes to open his mouth, smile widening but Castor cuts him off.

“Don’t you dare. You will keep it to yourself,” his voice is rough but a hint of embarrassment. I look between the two.

“Well, Leon told you about my meeting with the King, so I get to hear your story,” I sass.

“She has a point,” Leon notes, looking convinced at my argument. “And I would also like the point out I told nobody else,” he adds, looking at me with red cheeks.

“Actually I know too,” Arthur who has been surprisingly quiet up until now jumps in. “But my father told me, not Leon. He was quite intrigued with you actually,” he adds in afterthought. I sigh in humiliation before remembering what the original topic was. “.

“So?”

“It was rather idiotic of him actually, he was messing around with the knight that beat him, riling him up. Ended up tripping over a tent peg and landed right on the point of the other’s guys lance.”

I take a moment to comprehend my friend’s stupidity, the concern I felt leaving my body as I deadpan my face. ”Seriously?”

Castor shrugs with one arm. “You weren’t supposed to know. I was going to tell you it was a cool wound I got when some guy tried to beat me up.” He turns to Leon with a disgusted look. “Thanks a lot.”

“Sorry, I prefer Elena over you,” Leon replies cheekily, causing Castor to throw a weak punch his way which is easily dodged. The two boys get into a puppy scuffle making Torj, Arthur, Gwen, and I to roll our eyes.

“We’ll leave you boys to it,” Gwen says, wrapping her arm around mine as we leave them to be boys. Leon and Castor seem to not hear us, rolling on the ground, but the other two waves us off.

“Will they ever grow up?”

Gwen giggles, “I think they were just showing off,” winking at me. I roll my eyes, which I seem to be doing a lot today and scoff at her insinuation.

“They’re performing in front of the wrong crowd then. I’ve seen them drool in their sleep and fight half only half awake, which looks the opposite of heroic. And Castor came from breakfast one day with stew in his hair,” I object, “Stew! We don’t even get stew for breakfast!”

Gwen laughs, her head falling back as we keep walking. Castor feels like a brother to me, his childish antics always making my day even if they are annoying. Leon and Torj are exactly as Gwen and Morgana had put it, I was a duck and they were the first people I met here, a very weird case of imprinting.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Quarterfinals knock out a large group of contestants, including Torj who had a drawn-out round, seemingly as equally skilled as his competitor but became restless leading to the mistake of being imbalanced in the saddle. Leon and Arthur are two of the four that make it to the finals.

Arthur is to compete against one of the well-known Knights of Asgorath, a kingdom west of Camelot, who we traded with frequently. I have no worries for Arthur in my mind, instead, being concentrated on Leon, for he was put against Greasy. Apparently, his actual name is Sir Lorcan. My nose crinkles as his name is announced next to Leon’s, not trusting the slimy git. (I’m imagining Crispin Glover here if you want a visual.)

I excuse myself from the crowd as the semi-finals are being prepared, intending to get some fresh air to calm myself down. There is just something about that man and it’s not his lack of shampoo.

I enter the knight’s tent, knowing they wouldn’t be here, but a place for me nearby that I could escape from the sound of the crowd’s chatter. I run my hands through my hair, sitting on the table. My head falls into my knees, overwhelmed. Today has been going so well, I don’t even know why I am worried. It’s like this force is just making me sick.

I hear the tent flap open but I ignore it, hoping it was just a servant who would leave me be.

“You must be Elena,” the voice addresses. The voice is unfamiliar to me, making me spin my body around to inspect its owner. To my utter dread, it was Sir Lorcan, looking horrid as ever.

I don’t reply, just staring at him as he begins to circle me like a predator entrapping their prey. His feet are slow but steady, yet light even though his armour appears heavier than Camelot’s. My breathing increases, each breathable to be heard in the stillness of the tent. I dare not take my eyes off him, as though he is indeed a lion about to pounce on me.

He stops moving, just standing there as we watch each other. “It’s impolite not to answer,” he chides, clicking his tongue.

“Shouldn’t you be out there getting ready for the next round,” I growl, hiding the impact of his intimidation. Lorcan lets out a short breath.

“Against that oaf, they put me with. No need to prepare, he’ll be easy.”

I feel offended for my friend, scowling at the man. “He’s a better man than you’ll ever be.”

An uncharacteristic smile arrives on his face. “Oh, I know that. But it’s that weakness, that loyalty that will get you killed. If you give it to the wrong man that is.” He holds out a hand, “Why don’t you be with me. I can be your master?”

Master? What the hell is the man going on about? I thought he is was just generally weird but now, now - he is creepy and calling himself a master. Like a slave to him? Confusion mixes with fear, the two battling for dominance as I stay seating on the table, still not daring to move, as Lorcan’s hand still floats in the air waiting for my response. Finally, I splutter a response.

“I don’t know what in the world you are going on about mister,” I spit, jumping off the table, pointing my finger at him. “But I don’t want you to be my ‘master’, I am happy here and you will not threaten me or my friends.” The demanding tone of my voice is lost on the man who drops his hand.

“You don’t even know what you are, do you?” he ponders, scanning me from head to toe. “How sad that you don’t even know your own potential, or rather the potential you could give me.” His eyebrow quirks in his thought. This was the most his face has moved since I have met him. His words don’t make sense and this conversation has gone out of hand, so I don’t even bother trying to understand him anymore. Rather, I glance behind him, at the exit to the tent.

I could just walk straight past him, but my feet don’t move and I can’t blame them. Maybe it’s the potential this man could give me answers. Answers to why I am here.

But that opportunity diminishes as the tent flap opens to reveal a much-loved head of red hair. Torj scans the scene, squaring his shoulders and confidently walking over to me. His eyes meet mine, silently asking if I’m ok. I shake my head a little ‘no’. I want him to get me out of here. Torj’s eyes turn even sterner as his focus shifts to Greasy. 

“This tent belongs to the Knights of Camelot and their guests,” he declares, standing in front of me, hand resting on his sword. Lorcan squints at the man.

“I was just here to meet with Elena,” the poisonous tone drips, “she seemed interested in my company.” I gulp as his eyes bore into mine. Torj shuffles on his feet, becoming as uncomfortable as me.

“This lady has been spoken for, you’ve observed wrong so I request you leave now,” he demands, grip tightening.

Lorcan must feel threatened enough as he holds his chin higher but moves back towards to exit. “I suppose I have then. My apologise.” His apology is anything but sincere but I don’t speak up against it.

As he finally exits the tent, I finally relax, letting my shoulders drop. Torj turns around, gripping them. “Are you alright? How long was he here with you?” he questions, eyes trying to meet mine as I drop them to the ground.

“I’m fine, he was only here for a few minutes but thank you, I don’t know if he would have left if you hadn’t come here,” I admit, feeling useless. Torj brings me into a bear hug, resting his chin on my head. I pathetically chuckle, a tear falling down my cheek as I return the hug.

“You will always be safe when we are around,” he comforts, wiping away the tear. See? He is just a huge teddy bear. I giggle at the image, making Torj smile. The tent flap opens again, Leon and Castor entering this time. I look at him in confusion.

“Leon, you should be getting ready,” I say. The two look between us, their own confusion showing.

“I was, but Torj said he was going to find you and he never came back so we came to check on you both, someone saw him come in here.” I wipe my nose with my sleeve. “But it seems you’re both fine, I should be going then.” Leon nods goodbye, exiting as quickly as he came. His actions are brasher than I know him for; making me stare at the spot he was in for a few seconds after he left.

“Ah, sorry ‘bout him,” Castor says, scratching his head. “He’s a little stressed about the knight he’s going against and Torj and you missing got him worked up even more I suppose.”

“Wait.” Torj down at me, “Isn’t that guy the knight Leon’s going against? Lorcan or something.”

“Yeah,” I nod feeling anxious again. I almost forgot. Today just wasn’t going that great.

I miss last night, the happy drunkenness of everybody, stuffing our faces with food and dancing all night long. It seems forever ago now, standing in a sullen tent. “He scares me, but Leon is good at jousting. He’ll be fine,” I reassure myself more so than the others. Castor who has no idea of the previous events just nods as though he understood what is happening but Torj bites his lip.

“I hope so.”

I push the thoughts that swarmed my head away, determined not to let them ruin the day any further. Morgana asks us to accompany her near the royal box, as Uther sits near the other Kings and Arthur is competing, leaving her with no company. We stand just outside the box, as she sits on the edge, leaning on the barrier.

“I suppose Arthur will win once again, although that knight from Robert’s company looks rather skilled,” she rambles. She seems to enjoy these shows and I think I might to if there was not a never-ending threat of injury. But I won’t deny the adrenaline that fills me when I watch it.

The announcer calls forth Prince Arthur and the knight of Asgorath. The crowd becomes even wilder, cheering for the two. My ears feel almost deafened but I put on my best smile and cheer along with them with Gwen as Morgana does the proper thing by clapping.

They line up against each other, helmets down. Arthur doesn’t even seem nervous, no shifting in his seat, his grip on the lance sturdy. I suppose he has grown up doing this.

They charge at each other, lances aimed at the other’s chest. ‘Smack’. The knight of Asgorath lands on the ground with a heavy, armoured filled thump. I rest on the tops of my toes to observe his condition. He rolls over and gets to his feet as the crowd’s deafening cheers erupt once again for the prince who waves in recognition. Way to boost the ego even more.

It almost seems like the world goes into slow-motion even though I beg it not to, wanting to have this next part go quicker than I can say lance. Lorcan trots up on his black horse, gesturing his acknowledgment to the kings as I let out a shuddered breath.

I can see each individual hoof hit the ground. I see him blink, as his eyes drift from the kings to his opponent. Slowly he moves to his end of the rink, jaw forward and shoulders back. Even from a distance, I can see the twitch of his cheek as he watches Leon enter.

Leon does the same as before, respecting the King’s coming closers to where I stand, next to the box. He waves, mouth twerked up in a sense of confidence. I want to grin, to wave at him and wish him luck but my face is stuck in this look of dread. He comes closer to me, no longer waving. Our eyes meet each other and I see his eyebrows twitch as he sees I do not cheer for him like the rest of the crowd.

I want to scream and tell him that he shouldn’t compete, that this knight had some weird sort of vengeance to get here and that he would take it out on Leon. I want to scream to knock the other guy off his horse, to cheer him on harder than anybody else in the crowd. But I stay silent, gripping Gwen’s arm not taking notice of her glancing my way.

Unlike Lorcan, Leon shifts in his saddle, resetting his shoulders and head. His horse, like any other creature, can sense this unrest and its ears and tail flicker.

Time seems to speed up again as I take a deep breath in.

“Are you alright?” Gwen questions. I nod, forcing a smile on my lips. She isn’t convinced but lets the subject die.

The horses begin to charge at each other, horses taking the emotions radiating from their riders. I wince as both lances clash with the other’s chest but both riders stay seated, if not a little injured. My foot taps on the ground as a way to push out the building energy inside me.

Again the ride against each other, anger now leading them both. I’ve never seen Leon so angry, even if his face is covered, you can see it in the way he rides, a tight grip and rushing movements.

Lorcan’s lance smashed against Leon’s chest, forcing him off his horse. Leon flies in the air before landing to the ground with a heavy thud on his side. My foot stops tapping as I wait for him to get up, to show the world he is fine. But in front of me is the image of my nightmare, as Leon lays unconscious on the ground.

Gasps can be heard from around me, half the crowd cheering, the other half wondering if the man on the ground was even alive.

I can’t stay here and watch, as much as I want to run to him and plead for him to move, I can’t. I don’t want to see him there like that. Tears flood to my eyes as I struggle to take a breath in.

“Excuse me,” I mumble to Gwen who is watching the scene.

“Elena!” Morgana calls out but it doesn’t reach my ears.

I walk away from the tournament, letting the tears fall freely as nobody is around to judge them. It was just like the dream, lying there dead. What if what I saw is the future? No, I saw him fall in a forest. But the likeness of it is too real for my mind to cope with. Lorcan wants this. I pissed him off and he got back the way he knows how. He saw me with Leon at the feast; he would’ve done it to the other knights if he could have.

I find my way to the orchard, where I had wandered the week before, finding the large oak tree at its edge. Falling against it, I let out a cry of anguish and pain. I feel pathetic, Leon has to be alright. This is what he does.

But I’ve never had friends like this, ones that actually care for me and I love back. And to see one of them lying on the ground looking dead. I just can’t handle it. How am I supposed to survive this place if I can’t even watch a jousting tournament? This is the age of the knights and swords, hangings and beheadings. I’m sure I will see a burning at the stake soon enough.

I cry for myself as well. Landing here, adapting. I hadn’t let myself be angry yet, focusing on what I have to do next. But now I scream, punching the tree.

“Argh!” my knuckles start to bleed but that is not the source of pain. I grab my fist yelling in pain as apparently, I forgot how to punch and had tucked my thumb in the fist. It throbs and any movement sends pain down my arm.

Broken.

“Elena!”

Morgana comes running over to me as I fall back onto the tree. “Morgana,” I whisper, the energy leaving me. She drops beside me, taking me in her arms.

“It’s ok,” she soothes. “Leon’s alright. He was only out for a minute or so.” That is good.

“It’s not just that,” I sniff, wiping my nose. “I, uh, had a dream about it. Not just Leon, but the others too. They were hurt and Leon, he, looked just like he did in my dream,” I admit.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Morgana whispers, smiling slightly. I nod my head, gazing up at her. “I get nightmares too. I had one the night I ran into you.”

“That’s the night I had mine too.”

“Gaius makes me a potion to help me sleep but I had forgotten it. They’re horrible aren’t they.” Her hand rakes through my hair soothingly. “They feel so real, I can’t imagine what it was like seeing him like that after your dream.”

I don’t reply, as we stay there for, resting against each other under the old oak. The sun even begins to get lower and shadows now rule the land. I can almost fall asleep, my eyes tired and body exhausted. The tournament is well over by now but we don’t care.

“I wonder who won,” I speak for the first time in ages. Morgana lets out a short snort.

“Probably Arthur, and I’ll be hearing about it for days too.” We giggle together. “Come on, we should go see Leon and I need to do my wardly duties and congratulate the winner. “ Morgana gets up first, pulling me up by the elbows, knocking my hand against myself as I let out a hiss of pain.

“I think I should see Gaius first. I broke my thumb just before you got here.” Morgana looks at me gobsmacked.

“Did you just forget to mention that, we should have gone ages ago,” she frets.

“Oops,” I shrug. She shakes her head in disbelief, guiding me by my other arm to the court physician.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Morgana parts with me just before I reach Gaius’s after I assure her I am fine. I knock on his door with my left hand, hovering my right over my chest. Gaius must not be busy as he opens the door for me rather than calling out.

“Elena,” he greets cheerfully, “I was expecting another knight. They’ve been in and out all day it seems.”

“I would expect so, I saw some of the hits they got. Did Leon come to see you by any chance?” I inquire, hoping that he was not stubborn enough to refuse help. Gaius nods, recalling his memory.

“Yes, the young man did not too long ago,” his face turns sour, “Quite a nasty bruise on his chest and a small concussion but nothing that cannot be healed,” he assures. I nod, giving him a tight smile. Morgana said Leon had woken up minutes after he fell but knowing the extent of his injuries made me feel better. I had concussions all the time from falling off horses. (I was not the best rider.) “You should go see him later, I told him to rest.”

“I shall.” I almost forget why I am here. “Oh, I was wondering if you could help me with my thumb.”

I hold my right hand out for him to inspect. It is a narly purple and swollen, causing my eyes to divert at the hideousness. Gaius tuts his tongue.

“Dearie me, almost certainly broken.” He moves to gather some supplies. “How did you do it? I hope you didn’t get into a fight with somebody.” I stutter in embarrassment.

“Um, actually, it was a tree.” I shrug. “But it was a very rude tree and I think it deserved it,” I joke. Gaius lets out a short laugh, coming back over with some ointment and bandages. I wince as he rubs it over the swelling and bruises.

“This will only heal if you let it, so avoid using this hand,” he orders.

“But I’m a seamstress!” I exclaim. How will I ever do my job? And for weeks?

“Not for the next few weeks you are not,” Gaius retorts, providing me with a stern look. “Not unless you are good with you left hand and are gentle on this one.”

I look at my left in dismay, cursing its uselessness at anything. Gaius wraps my right hand in a sturdy bandage, thick around my thumb. It is painful but the headache I have distracts me.

“I would give you something for the pain but I’m afraid Leon has the last of it and I haven’t had a chance to obtain more. These tournaments always run my stock low.” Gaius is sympathetic but truthful which is nothing more than I can ask for.

“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely.

I leave him be, intending to go find my friends to assess their damage. After asking around I deduce they must be in one of their chambers as even Arthur has not seen them. I walk slowly, not feeling the rush to see them as I did earlier.

I knock on Castor’s door, assuming they would be in his chambers but there is no answer so I move to Torj’s which gives me the same response. Finally, I turn to Leon’s. I walk up to the door, raising my hand to knock but their voices inside make me stop, lowering my hand back down to listen.

“I’ve never seen you take a hit so bad man, what was going on?” Castor asks. “It was like you were distracted or something.”

“It was Elena.” What?

“Are you saying its Elena’s fault that you lost?” Castor asks, sounding astonished. Where is the conversation going?

“No,” Leon begins before hesitating. “Well yes. She gave me this look as I rode past her. Like all she wanted to do was rip me off my horse.” Did I really look that ferocious? I thought I would have looked petrified more so than angry. “It threw me off.”

My fault. It was my fault that he fell. My fault that he got injured. He just said so himself. I cover my mouth, hoping that my breathing isn’t heard through the door.

“I don’t think she meant to. She was stuck in the tent with Sir Lorcan, I don’t know what they talked about but you should’ve seen her face man, she was terrified.” That was Torj. “I think she was scared for you more than anything.”

“Then why haven’t we seen her since then. You’d think if she cared she’d come down and see us after.” There was a hint of anger but sadness reigned in the man’s voice. “I don’t think she truly ever liked me, she is just too shy to say so.”

“Gwen saw her run off, she told me herself. We don’t know what happened,” Castor speaks up. “Don’t overthink it, just rest for tonight.”

I stand there, not knowing what to think. Infuriated that he believed I don’t care. Or distressed that I was the one to have caused this doubt. And the accusation that I was the one to cause his wounds melts into a pit of despair, settling in my stomach. I hover over the door, not sure whether to knock and talk to them or turn away and run.

I hear their footsteps coming closer to the door so following my gut; I stride away, going back the way I came which is stupidly away from my chambers. As I near the end of the corridor I hear Castor call out my name but I keep going, not having the words to answer them.

I need the night to think, and then I will come forth. What had I done or rather not done to make him think that? Was I a terrible friend, I’d never had enough true friends to test that. I must apologise to him, for there should be no reason for him to think that way.

Soon, not even realising I had been wandering for so long, I find myself in the market square which is lit only by torches. I spin around, trying to make sense of where I am but my eyes haven’t yet adjusted.

Squawking, grabbing a fist full of my dress with my left hand I let the frustration of the entire day take me again. I fall against the wall, just like I did at the oak tree only with nobody to comfort me here except the haystack poking my side.

Today seems like a big dream – a nightmare that I can’t wake up from.

For a long time, I rearrange myself against my spot against the stone wall, using the hay as a pillow but exhaustion rules over comfort and soon I fall asleep dreaming of a better day.

Dawn breaks, waking me up as it does the world. My back cracks and my neck feels stiff. Yawning, I push the hay strands away from my head as I groan remembering where I am. Yesterday was stupid. Utterly stupid. Leon was upset and angry, I was upset and angry.

With nothing to do today, not being able to perform my duties as a seamstress, I am free to wander. Still in my dress from yesterday, I just brush off the dirt and retie my hair not caring about the possible dirt smudges on my face.

“I feel like Cinderella,” I mutter to myself, stepping back out onto the main road looking around for a familiar sight. “And sound like Cinderfella,” I croak at the roughness of my voice which I undoubtedly strained yesterday.

“Elena!”

Gwen observes me, mouth agape as she takes in my appearance which I am guessing is not as good as I hoped it is. “What happened? Are you alright?” Oh, and add on my broken hand I will just assume I look homeless. She runs up to me, holding my arms. We are still in the market square so Gwen would be getting ready to go to work as a handmaiden.

“I’m fine Gwen,” I say, attempting to smile. “I just had a rough night.”

“That’s an understatement.” Her head shakes, disapproving of my state. “Come on, let me take you back up to the castle and I’ll draw you a bath and get some clean clothes for you.”

“But Morgana-“I protest but she hushes me.

“Morgana would rather I help you than put up her hair, she will understand.”

Arm gently resting around my shoulder, she does as she promises, leading me up to my chambers. My bad luck from yesterday hasn’t ended though as Castor and Leon round a corner into the same corridor as us dressed in casual attire.

“Elena! We were worried about you,” Castor gushes, coming forward to meet us as Leon stood back with a still face. The bandages around his chest peak through the top of his shirt. “What happened? You hand-.”

“It’s fine. I told you – I would hurt anybody that hurt you,” I attempt a joke, although my voice doesn’t match the words. Castor glares at me.

“What happened yesterday? Gwen said you ran off then I saw you running off yesterday now you’ve come back looking like shit with a broken hand.” His voice is harsh and demanding, so unlike the boyish character, I know him for.

“I will -.” I stop, not knowing what to say, not expecting to talk to them yet. “Can I speak to Leon? Please?”

Leon looks up surprised and unsure. Castor looks back at his friend than to me. He stands there silently for another moment before stepping aside to let me pass. “Thank you, Gwen, but you should get to Morgana.” She looks at me, uncertain but doesn’t question me, letting go of my arm and moves past us all to her new destination.

Castor licks his lips, “I’ll be around,” he says, to me or Leon I am not sure.

As Leon and I stand alone we look at each other, both trying to decide the first words to speak.

“I overheard you talking last night. In your room.” I still sound meek and rough, my left hand playing with a loose thread on my dress. I watch his face, unable to read his expression as he doesn’t answer. “Do you know why I didn’t see you after?” I ask, my voice finding a new drive.

Leon stays still, shaking his head as though he lost his voice.

“It’s because I care,” I throw his words back at his face. “I couldn’t bear to see my friend lying on the ground looking dead. And then to hear that you blame me for it made me feel real pathetic.” He bows his head in shame.

“I’m sorry,” guilt dripping from his voice.

“Why would you ever think that I didn’t care?” I plead, desperate to know what I had done and to fix it while I still have a thread of hope.

“You objected any sort of offer I gave you,” he admitted, speaking with a sense of purpose for the first time. “It seems as though the only reason you are around me is because of Torj and Castor, if they weren’t there I think you would just past by me.”

“What?” Of all the reason I did not think this would be it.

“You reject my offer of food a the tavern yet Castor was there to bring you some. You refused my invite to escort you and there are so many other little things that it seems as though you don’t want to owe me anything or something.” There is a sense of built-up confusion and anger in his words. “What did I do to offend you?”

I let out a sigh, not sure how to answer. “Castor… He reminds me of my brother. He was so childish but lived his life to help other people. He died doing that as well, he was a firefighter. Every time he helped someone his eyes would light up as though he had just saved the world and you could see he loved every bit of his job.” My eyes gaze past him, coming to stand at a window. Leon moves beside me, only looking at me instead of the view. “Castor is just like him and I know exactly how to deal with him, what to say and how to make him happy. That’s why I never reject his offers because I know that he loves it, the helping.

“And Torj. He’s a teddy bear. Hard shell but soft on the inside like my father. I felt like I already knew him when I met him. But then there’s you. I’ve never met a person like you before and it scared me. I wanted to be your friend so badly that I didn’t want to say something wrong or think I was taking you for granted. I’ve been learning you just as you have me. And then I saw you lying there unconscious, I couldn’t bear to think I might lose one of you one day. So the only thing you did to offend me was get hurt.”

My chest feels lighter than it ever has since arriving in Camelot. Leon was silent through my whole speech taking it in. Unexpectedly, he wraps me up in a hug, careful of both of our injuries. I let out a soft cry, quietly sobbing into his shirt.

“I am so sorry,” he says for a second time that day. “I was just so confused yesterday and after you left that knight – Lorcan came up to me and said that you might be leaving soon and after you were in the tent with him alone I didn’t know what to think.”

“Lorcan?” I ask disgusted. “He said that to you? Yes, he did speak to me in the tent but I have no idea what he was going on about. Something about being a master.”

“So you are not leaving Camelot?” he reassures.

“If I were, it would not be with him.” He grins, kissing my head. He holds out a hand for me to take.

“Let me buy you some breakfast, they have some nice food down in the market and I can tell you haven’t had anything.” I shake my head to refuse but his pointed look tells me not to.

“Alright.” I place my hand in his, letting him lead me to town, not even giving a second thought to my appearance as Leon doesn’t care either. Glad this is over, a genuine smile stays on my face for the rest of the day.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
Some time has passed being here in Camelot, most likely months but I had no way to tell. Maybe even a year. All I know of time is the sun and the day, everything else – dates, months and the year fuddle together like being on school holiday too long. To be truthful, I don’t even know what year it is really. I never asked and it would seem weird that I wouldn’t know I never brought it up.   
My nightmares were not a common occurrence but when they appeared they shook me deeper than ever, usually leading to my sleepless night of wandering around. One night, I had gone down to the training ground with no aim in mind but to look through the weapons out of interest. Each knight had their own sword which they had the honour of naming that they kept with them at almost all times. Castor had elegantly named his ‘Brain Slasher’ which I just smiled at and did not comment. Torj and Leon both had something actually meaningful but the words left my mind shorty after.   
I had picked up a bow one of those nights, playing around with the arrows and a target. I was never any good, only hitting the target a few times. Torj had found me after getting up one night, hearing me nearly knock down a statue against the wall near our chambers and followed me out. He laughed at my attempt, coming from the shadow which was a terrifying memory but he became committed to teaching me and so for one night a week we would meet on the training grounds to teach me archery.   
By now I was good enough to ride and shoot efficiently, I even had a couple of swings with a sword but I found it much too heavy for me to sustain. But I could swing it and if my enemy was not watching I could do some damage. Just remind me to attack from behind.   
The other two came to know of my midnight habit after I embarrassingly shot Torj in the foot which he still has not forgiven me about and I had run to them, admittedly laughing as he cursed me out.   
Every month or so they would go out for a few days to hunt, a process which the Knights of Camelot seemed to shift rotate for sport as well as another group that scouts the lands and visits the surrounding villages in Camelot’s domain. After learning archery I was desperate to put my skills to the test and begged them to let me come hunting. Initially, they refused but I irritated them enough that they proposed the idea to Arthur and now to everybody else I attend as a temporary ‘servant’, to help carry their wares but I was forbidden from the scouting. Which I did not argue with, as it seems ever so boring but I did leave me for a week with little entertainment. But not without friends.   
As the seamstress, I have met most of the permanent residents of the castle and after many lessons with Guinevere I had enough skill to be able to perform the duties on my own and I was able to stop paying Gwen and save my money as my own. Arthur never seems to have all his clothing in working order, at least one shirt or pair of pants a week and I had even met the librarian, Geoffrey to mend his robe. I had been able to meet the other knights as well, patching holes. They didn’t see me as a friend but as a servant, which is all I am to them so I cannot expect much else. I suppose that’s all the other three would see me as if they were not the ones to find me and if I had not attached myself to them with a hook and sinker.   
Because of my job, I had plenty of spare time being able to perform most at my own pace but fast enough to not have complaints thrown my way. Usually, I would sit in my room through the middle of the day and late at night when everybody else is busy with their own jobs. Some weeks I had almost nothing to do and would go into town to visit Gorham and Gwen’s father.   
I knew there isn’t much I can do in the way of getting home. Uther’s law forbids magic and I lacked the skill and courage to leave Camelot on my own so I figured I would wait until Merlin shows if he does at all. 

“Late again, as usual,” Torj jeers as I walk down the steps. The rest of the hunting group already outside and making their final checks. I roll my eyes, passing by him to the horse I would be riding, a chestnut with a white star.   
“I couldn’t find my riding pants,” I retort, stretching my legs. “They feel looser than before.” Castor looks over at me, wincing.   
“Yeah sorry about that,” he says, cringing as he looks down at my pants. “But in my defence, they were with my pile of clothes and I thought they were mine.”  
“They’re tiny compared to yours. And how in the world did they end up with your stuff anyways?” I scoff, shaking my head at him. He shrugs as Torj and Leon look on in wonder. It was the four of us plus two other knights that are friendly enough. Most of their extra gear such as cooking and supplies are loaded onto my horse as that is my supposed duty but after the first night, I would move the stuff back to their horses whistle I was on watch. I know they knew but they never said anything so I never stopped.   
Leon led his horse towards me, bending his head down to my level. “Don’t worry; I know how to shrink them clothes. You get his shirts and let me do the rest,” he whispers into my ear as, smirking at Castor who is fumbling around with his saddle. I smack his arm but nod, agreeing to his plan. We watch as he pulls the wrong tether and his whole saddle fell off his horse who doesn’t even bat an eyelid. Castor hastily motions to a nearby servant to fix it, turning around and talking to someone else.   
“How did that boy ever become a knight?” I wonder aloud. “Seriously, who was the one that let him name his sword ‘Brain Slasher’ too?” Leon puts his hands up in mock surrender and Torj who was standing nearby also is watching our mutual friend in the same disbelief. I just thank the lord that Uther was not here to see the disgrace of one of his knights, however loyal he may be to the Pendragon name.   
Looking away from the mess I ensure my horse is ready to go, mounting her. Most times I would have assistance up, either by one of the servants or knights but they had already mounted by the time I had finished checking over. Never getting the hang of it, I hook one foot in the stirrup and attempt to pull my body up and over, my right leg catching onto the top of the saddle but my body caught at the leg flap. I had only used mounting blocks when I used to ride, never being able to mount without it.   
Stuck in this awkward position I hear the laughter of my friends from behind me.   
“Get stuffed you lot,” I grunt at them, only hearing their laughter become louder. The sound of a horse moves, a white gelding stands in front of me, Leon mounted on him looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “Help?” I whisper, smiling innocently. He moves closer, reaching over the left side of the horse to grab my right arm and heaves me up on top of the saddle.   
“We need to work on your upper body strength,” he says, “or just teach you how to swing up instead of that pathetic pull you try.” Our company begins to trot down out of the courtyard.   
“What? And not have you guys have to lift me. That’s the only reason why I hang around strong men such as yourself,” I tease, flexing my own pathetic arm muscle. “See this,” I hold my arm out. “I stay weak so I have everybody else do the heavy lifting for me.” Leon huffs, grinning, knowing I only tease him.   
We ride out past the city gates. I wave to the guards who have no idea who I am but they always wave back. My bow rests in a crook on the right side of the saddle along with the quiver so I could easily grab both whether I was on or off the saddle.   
After a couple of hours, we pass into hunting territory, not that you couldn’t hunt anywhere but this is where the game lived. I hate riding in silence so I talk the whole time, sure they were sick of my blabbering but never saying anything. I do shut up once our ‘hunt’ begins. I ride with one hand on the reign, the other holding my bow with a loaded arrow nocked. Leon and Castor preferred crossbows as they are easier to ride with and Torj uses a bow like me. The other two knights, Harris and Finnegan use spears.  
We hunt through the day, acquiring two rabbits and one deer so far. Almost every part of the animal is used. Some we cook here whistle hunting, the rest goes back to the castle to be used for food and animals’ parts such as the pelt are sold to traders.   
Eventually, the night comes, cloaking us in darkness that stops us going further. The camp is set up at dusk while there is still light, and I make the fire, cooking dinner for the knights and myself per my duties. Once the stew is made I sit between Harris and Finnegan, eager to better acquaint myself with them, letting the other three have a rest from my nagging. Harris and Finnegan had been on three other hunting trips with me and it seems that this group is becoming the frequent go-to for hunting, everybody enjoying everybody else’s presence.   
We lay down for the night, moving myself back between Castor and Leon as I usually slept, with Torj on the opposite side of the campfire. They sleep with their swords next to them, which on the first night was quite unnerving but by now I am used to the sight of a blade near my head when I wake up. 

“Good, nice and easy there,” Torj instructs, holding his hand low as my bow is raised. We left the others to track on horseback, leaving our own at the campsite to hunt by bow in silence. This is how you got the clever prey, but trade-off speed and distance able to travel. A large stag, like the one that I met on my first day here, stands behind some bushes. It's head only visible when it stops eating. I know it senses me, the predator, it just can’t figure out where I am being downwind.   
The arrow flings from my bow, almost silent except the slight twang of the string and the sound of metal digging into flesh.   
“Nice Tiger!” we walk over to my kill, the arrow lodge in its head where it would damage the least amount of animal product so we could make use of most of its body. I whisper a thank you to it, taking my arrow back from its head.   
This isn’t the modern times where hunting is almost purely recreational, this is a time of survival, where this entire animal would be used. Killed after living its life in nature, and not some squashed pen-raised for food. I was never a vegetarian but I feel less guilty eating the animals here, knowing that their pain wasn’t a game for humans – well, most of them. It still is a sport, just a sport that came from the need to hunt.   
Torj ties off its legs, not skinning it here, as it is easier to move in one piece. Slugging the shot over his shoulders, we walk back to camp to drop it off before moving somewhere else for foxes, their pelts worth more.   
“So has he asked you yet?” he asks. I turn back to him, burrowing my brows. He has a smirk on his own face, waving his eyebrows suggestively.   
“What?” I ask, utterly confused. Torj’s face drops.   
“He said he was,” he looks around at the forest, sighing. “I might have to drag him,” he mutters.   
“Ah. Ok.” I say, perplexed but dropping the topic. I don’t know who in the world he is talking about or what question but I don’t think I would get it out of him, being one of the most stubborn men I know. “Finnegan wants to move camp again before dark so we might have to just wait at camp and go out tomorrow.”  
He looks up at the sun, which is already getting low in the sky. With one hand dragging the deer over his shoulder, the other finds its way over my neck.   
“I think you’re right there lassie. Let’s hope the others are as skilled as you huh,” he says, winking at me.   
“Never,” I wink back.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

“I thought you were here to do the servant’s work, Elena,” Castor mocks from his horse as we cross paths with them back to camp. Rabbits and squirrels are attached to their horses. “You should be the one dragging around stuff.”

“Sorry, to busy hauling your attitude,” I jeer, flicking the rabbit tied to his horse away from my head. “Besides, wouldn’t even have the stag if it wasn’t for me.”

“She’s right lads,” Torj adds, tossing the deer to the side as the men dismount and tie their horses to a tree.

Together, we dismantle our camp, smothering the embers of the fire from last night and prepare our kills for travelling. Leon and I offer to take their water bottles and fill them up at a stream nearby making general chatter as we walk.

“You never speak about your home,” Leon points out, his tone casual but curiosity peeks through. I look up into the trees, the sun still high for another few hours.

“Not much to say really.” I pause, thinking about what I can say. “You know I had a brother, my mother died when I was young in an accident but I don’t really remember her. My father raised me and I just helped him out I suppose.”

“What was your home like, in Mearth? I’ve never heard about such a place and I even asked Geoffrey to look it up but there was nothing?” I am surprised that he went to Geoffrey to ask about my home rather than me.

“It’s… far away from here, much different from these lands,” is all I say. Leon sighs deeply.

“That’s all you ever say. I feel like I know you so well but yet I know nothing about you before we found you.”

I don’t speak, just watching him but he isn’t looking at me. He looks forward as we keep on walking, his blonde, curly hair dishevelled with from sweat and riding.

“One day, I will tell you everything,” I don’t even know what I am saying. “It’s hard to understand. I’m afraid that you won’t see me the same way.” And that I’ll be put to death. I had seen the trials Uther has put forth, many killed for the war against magic. Even though it isn’t my fault, I had no say in the matter; I know the mindset of the King. But one day I would, the day I leave here or I was certain of my death. And there is a large possibility of at least one of them.

“Do you not trust me?” he asks after moments of silence, voice quieter than before.

“Of course I do,” my reply is instant, not even having to think about it. I trust them all with my life, even Finnegan and Harris. “It’s fear of the unknown that I don’t.” Leon stops for a second, looking at me, opening his mouth to say something but decides against it, continuing to walk so I change the subject. “Torj asked me earlier if somebody had asked me something specific. Wouldn’t happen to know what he was talking about do you?” Leon shakes his head, eyes forward.

“No idea.”

“Were you born in Camelot?”

“Yes,” he nods, “My father was a lord and I made friends with Arthur when I was young. I met Torj when his father died, he was a knight. Torj was sent to live with a family friend when I met him on the way to training one day and you know the story of Castor,” he chuckles, dipping a water pouch into the stream. “I had always wanted to be a knight. I would spend my free time watching them train. Just as you watch us every day,” he winks.

“You see me?” I ask, reddening cheeks. Sometimes I watched them at the training grounds which is no secret but other times I would sit by the window, which I did not know they saw me at.

“Same window I used to look out of,” he tells me, smiling gently.

“And now you are one of their most loyal and trusted,” I say to hide from the topic of my spying.

“So they say.” Modest bastard.

“What about a wife? I’ve noticed many of the knights are not married.” His hands search for the pouches top, winding it on.

“It’s a difficult situation for us. There are no…restrictions against anything of the sort but these men know what they job is. They know every day there is a chance they won’t come home and I think many of them are afraid they will have to choose one day if they bring something like that into the image.” The way he says it shows that he has contemplated this idea before.

“And what about you? I know Torj is in love with that woman he met long ago and Castor proclaims his love for every woman in the tavern.” He shifts, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry, you don’t have to tell me,” I assure him, not wanting to push his boundaries and he gladly doesn’t answer me.

The chatter continues after a while, filling up each of the water pouches and going back to camp which has now disappeared, put on our horses’ backs.

“‘bout time you two.” Harris speaks up from his horse, “dawdling around like children.”

“The stream was further away than I thought,” Leon defends chucking him his water pouch. “What are you in a rush for anyways?”

“Bad feelings all,” Harris says, eyes scanning the horizon. I look out myself but see nothing except vegetation and the flutter of a bird. Walking up to my horse, I already feel him behind me, placing my foot in his hands. I smile down at Leon, gripping my reigns.

We follow a worn path, made by travellers getting closer to the borders of Camelot’s east; near Cenred’s but it is still a few days ride. A few villages lay around here such as Ealdor which I want to visit one day, travel out of Camelot but I know I couldn’t myself just yet. 

We ride for a few hours, my bottom half becoming numb in the saddle. I giggle as Castor sits restlessly in his own saddle pushing his feet forward and leaning back, obviously feeling just a numb as me. The forest is beautiful around this time of year, during the summer where the nights are warm and the sun stays awake longer than the winter. I love the heat, its warmth soaking my skin; I could bask in it all day. Maybe I’ll be reborn as a reptile.

I ponder what was happening back in my own time. If any time had passed at all or if I was considered missing or dead. My life before Camelot seems so far away, like a distant memory as though it was from my childhood and not just months ago. If time has passed there, would I be able to go back – what would I say when they ask where I’ve been all this time. But my father, he is alone without me. I drop my head, feeling guilty for loving my time here yet my father may be living thinking his entire family is now dead. 

We ride into a large open space, where the trees seem to fade. The sky is clear above us, unobstructed by branches. Instead of feeling free, I feel open. Exposed. Saliva sticks in my throat, keeping my head forward but my eyes dart, scanning the trees around us. Like Harris had said before we left; a bad feeling. I want to ask the company to move faster, back into the covered area.

“Guys can we-“ but the rest of the words don’t make it from my throat, stopped by a scream of terror. An arrow comes out of the trees, just where my eyes had passed over them, finding its way into Finnegan’s neck. He falls from his horse to the ground unmoving. My hand covers my mouth in a now silent scream. The rest of the group notices as I do, on alert and drawing their weapons, heads turning for the shooter.

From the tree line, a hoard of men, dressed in no uniform and branding weapons of all types begin charging at us on foot. Torj, Leon and Castor ready their bow and crossbows, firing them as they run. One, two, three. Three men fall to the ground, hopefully dead. I haven’t even drawn my weapon yet. The men are getting closer, so I grasp my bow, plucking an arrow from my quiver. They are meters away from us, arrows shooting but the movement of our horses throws them off.

Castor’s face is grave, a sight not common to see on him, Leon next to him wearing the same face. A battle face. I aim my bow at them, more at the crowd than one particular man. Letting the arrow go I see it hit a man’s shin, sending him to the ground. Leon’s see my arrow, turning to face me with wide eyes. Chaos all around us, without the red cloaks I would never be able to tell who is who.

“Go!” he cries, shooting. The men have reached us, swinging their weapons. Not as many that had started running had reached us, the knight’s arrows shooting many of them down. They are unorganised, coming at us from so far away, giving away their position so early. Leon swing’s his sword down at a man, dismounting his horse to reach them better.

“What?” I shriek back, still mounted, the fighting focused on the men not seeing me as the biggest threat. His swords swings, slicing a man’s neck and splattering blood over his face.

“Get out!” he yells moving closer to me. His voice betrays the fear that he doesn’t think those left of us are getting out alive.

“No, I won’t leave you here!” I cry desperately but I know the reality. I have no weapon besides my bow which is not a short-range weapon.

Leon smacks my mare’s hind, compelling her to gallop forward as I grip the reigns tighter letting her run towards the forest. As I come closer to the tree lines I look back at my friends, Torj swinging his sword high over his enemy’s head, Castor on the defence, blocking a man’s axe. Leon stabs a man in the back as he raised his weapon to strike Harris who is fighting two men.

Torj looks in my direction, then back to the direction of the trees where they originally stormed us from. I hear the faint call of my name from his mouth just as I pass into the tree lines.

A sharp pain tears through my left shoulder, an arrowhead sticks out just above my armpit. I cry out in pain, sure that the people across the sea can hear me. I fall backwards off my horse but my foot catches in the stirrup, dragging me along the ground as my mare continues to canter through the forest. The back of the arrow snaps as I land on it sending a second wave of pain to mask the first.

My mind fuzzes, not sure whether to focus on getting my foot loose or the arrow in my shoulder. My body is dragged scraping across the grass and gravel, rocks cutting into my back and head.

“Hey! Stop!” I cry to my horse who doesn’t even twitch her ears back and she swings through the trees. I reach up with my right arm, trying to reach my ankle to free myself but I can’t get my body up high enough and my foot is at an angle to awkward to bend. I sob loudly, scared that I would die being pulled on the ground by a horse, just after watching my friends’ possible final moments. I had already watched Finnegan’s. He is the first man I have seen die so close to me. All the others run by Uther were like watching a movie but this was less than two meters in front of me, his blood on my shirt, mixing with my own.

My arm burns now, a pain that I have never even come close to feeling. My broken hand all those months ago feels like nothing compared to this. I was numb to pain then but now, -now I feel every stick and stone that scrapes under me and every pump of blood that makes its way to my shoulder, only to be soaked by my shirt.

My mare takes a sudden turn, flying me in the air. I see a large stump coming my way, or maybe I am coming its way? Before I have time to philosophise, my head connects with the stump and instantaneously I see black, the pain magically fading into beautiful oblivion.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I can feel before anything else. My body is sinking into the ground like a brick is on my chest, holding me down. The pain in my shoulder is dull but ever so there, thudding away, aching. My back stings as though a thousand paper cuts stretch down it. But I am not moving, no longer caught in my saddle’s stirrup. And for that, I thank any god that may exist. My head hurts as well, feeling heavy on one side, skin dirty and tight.

Next, my hearing comes back, the sound of the natural elements of the forest making their way through to my head. But I also hear the sound of shuffling and footsteps and I know I’m not alone. I tense my whole body as though I could run if need be but drop myself realising that it was both useless and that whoever is around hasn’t yet killed me so I can assume they don’t have the intention to.

Finally, my sight comes back as I open my eyes slowly. Everything is foggy, colours blurring together and shapes not making sense. I let out a groan of pain as the events rush back to me, remembering the fight that I ran from. A new figure of messy colours comes into my vision, blocking the view of the sky. They start to speak to me but the words mix together.

I had to sit up. Digging my elbows into the ground I put all my energy into the dirt to push away from it. Hands from the stranger fall on my unharmed shoulder and neck, assisting me up.

I sit there, waiting for the world to make sense, the person still talking to me. Slowly, the blobs turn into the shapes I know them for and the person becomes more defined as their features focus.

It is a boy, around my own age with dark messy hair, a brown jacket and a red scarf around his neck. The words from his mouth begin to make sense.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asks, seeing me begin to comprehend things. I take a moment to register everything.

“My…” my head, my back, my foot, my shoulder. “Ow,” I end up with, touching my head with my fingers. I feel the crusted flakes of dried blood on them. The boy looks at me with pity, bringing up a wet cloth. “Where am I?”

He pats the cloth to my head, making me wince. “Forest of Escetir. I found you being dragged by your horse. There was an arrow in your shoulder as well.” He motions over to my mare who is calmly eating grass, tied to a branch. “I’ve taken it out and stopped the bleeding but you should keep an eye out for infection. I’m not much of a healer but I’ve done the best I could. Your head was knocked pretty badly but it looks worse than it is.”

“That sounds about right,” I grunt. “Thank you. I would have died.”

“What happened to you?” he asks, solemnly, still wiping my head with the cloth gently.

“I was out with my friends. We were hunting and these men attacked us,” my eyes begin to sting as I recall the memory. “Oh my, they could be dead. One of them is dead.” My words jumble together. “How long has it been, I – I –have to get back to them.” Merlin places a light hand on my chest, calming me down.

“Not like this, you can’t. I found you last night so it’s been over a day since you were attacked. I’m going to Camelot, we can get you help there,” he tells me confidently. I was out a whole day? This boy is going to Camelot. “It a day’s walk from here but it will probably take us a while longer.”

I nod quickly, making my head burn. “Yes, I’m from Camelot. Anything you need there – food, a bed, just let me know. I cannot thank you enough,” I say, hoping my voice portrays the sincerity of my words. The boy smiles bashfully.

“Thank you, but I am staying with the court physician, you don’t need to repay me.”

“You’re staying with Gaius?” I ask, pleasantly surprised. Maybe I would be seeing more of this boy than I thought. He nods, looking pleased that I now him.

“You know him?”

“I live in the castle, as a seamstress. I visit Gaius when I get the chance,” I say, thinking back on my fond memories. My smile drops as I realise that maybe some of my memories will only forevermore be that, the image of them fighting for their lives as I ran coursing through me. The guilt drowns me but I put the smile back on my face, not wanting to show this boy ungratefulness. “You never told me your name.”

“Oh, I’m Merlin.”

I pause. Completely still, the name registering in my brain. No way that this is the Merlin. The wizard who is always depicted as an old man, a wise warlock and Arthur’s advisor. This young boy in front of me, staring at me with innocent and kind eyes in the man of legend.

I realise I have been staring at him for longer than appropriate, his cheeks turning red and mine soon match. “And yours?” he drags with his eyebrows raised in anticipation, bringing me out of my comatose state. I shake my head, my mind flying back to the present.

“Sorry, Elena.” I offer my hand to shake which he takes gladly. “I’m sorry, I’m going to be making your trip quite slow and painful,” I say, feeling sorry for the poor thing. “Actually, we can ride. I have my horse.” Merlin looks back at the horse than to me.

“That’s true, are you up for riding?”

“I think so,” I say moving my body which is in pain all over. “May as well be in more pain but for less time than drag in out on my feet. Besides, my ankle hurts too.”

“Alright then, if you’re sure,” he nods. “We can leave tomorrow at first light. You could get infections so the sooner the better.” I agree.

The light is going down, as though it is yesterday, only minutes having passed rather than an entire day. I push myself further from the ground as Merlin goes to make a fire to help him but tells me to lie back down instead. My head rests against my bag that I was tied to my horse.

“Where are you from, Merlin?”

“Ealdor. I was born and raised there. This is my first time leaving actually,” he smiles, a fondness of an unknown memory. “What about you?”

“No actually, I came to live there about a year ago now. I’m came from a fair bit away, on a different land but I don’t think I’m going back. What made you want to come to Camelot?” I ask, quickly changing the topic from my home, hoping I can get some sort of hint from him that he is the legendary man.

“My mother actually,” he laughs. “She’s convinced I will have a better life there.” I smile, appreciating the idea of his mother’s care for him.

“Camelot is a beautiful place,” I say, closing my eyes to imagine it, the road, and the people.

It’s almost trapping here, not being able to move and not knowing where my friends are, dead or alive. “You haven’t seen any knights come past have you by any chance?” I question, trying not to get my hopes up. Merlin squints, shaking his head.

“No, sorry,” he looks at me up and down. “Are they looking for you? No offence, but I didn’t know they sent out knights for seamstresses.” I let out a small laugh, letting him know I’m not offended at all.

“I suppose not, but I was actually out with them. The knights that is, they’re my friends.” I frown, “They’re probably back in Camelot anyways.” I try to believe my own words

Merlin looks up from his poor attempt at building a fire. I sniffle, holding back the snot filling my nose. My bottom lip trembles with my chest soon following, letting out a short trembling breath. He crouches down near me. “Hey-hey, it’s ok. If they are back in Camelot then they’re safe and you’ll see them again. We just got to get you there too,” he finishes with a dorkish smile. I can’t help but smile at his attempt, dry sobbing. I don’t speak, fearing I will fall apart if I do.

This poor boy has saved a strange girl being dragged on the ground by a horse, spent a day caring for me and making sure I stayed alive and now has to deal with my emotional outbreaks that are coming and going faster than pimples. I hold myself together not to embarrass myself any further. Even though I had been sleeping for over twenty-four hours, exhaustion climbs through my body, eyes stinging with tiredness. Merlin takes notice of this, the observant boy he is.

“You should get some sleep. I’ll wake you back up in the morning.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, already falling back asleep.

Just as Merlin promised, his hand rustles me awake. “Here.” He holds out an apple for me to take, which I do graciously accept. My left arm from the shoulder down aches, pulsing up to my neck but I could ignore it for now. My migraine from yesterday now a dull headache on my right temple and my ankle isn’t swollen anymore, only lightly bruised. The apple juice covers my mouth, making me moan, realising that I hadn’t eaten for nearly two whole days, only the water Merlin helped me drink yesterday as we talked.

After handing me the apple, he walks over to my horse, tacking her back up, thankfully having taken her saddle off over the last two days. I lift myself back off the ground, holding back a groan, brushing the dirt off my torso. Moving to my feet is an effort but I make it myself, dismissing Merlin’s offer.

Camp itself is already packed away, Merlin’s small pack already on the saddle, my pack still on the ground where I slept on it. I bend down to pick it up.

“Argh,” I try to hold in but the groan slips through, halfway bent down. Merlin rushes over, picking it up for me.

“Sorry, let me.” He puts his arm back over my front, helping me lean back up. “I’ll put your bag on there and we can get going.” He takes the bag from my grip, walking back over to the saddle to tie it up and I hobble over.

I glare at the saddle, foretelling the struggle that is about to come my way. Merlin doesn’t look like the strongest person and I’m bad enough on a good day. He turns to me, finished packing with his lips pressing against each other. He gestures to the saddle awkwardly. “Um, I’m guessing you need help.”

“Ah, yeah.” I blush, walking up to him, holding my left arm. We muddle around to figure out how I am getting up before settling on linking his hands and pushing me up and on to the saddle. Thankfully, my stomach seems to be the only part not hurting as it’s where I land in the seat before righting myself. Merlin pulls himself up, letting him use the stirrups and sits in front of me.

“To Camelot we go,” he announces, nudging the mare forward into a gentle walk which I’m glad we stick at, not sure if I could handle to bouncing of anything faster.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The ride is long and painful but I hold my complaints as I think insulting the boy who saved me would be utterly rude. I end up resting the good side of my head on his back, sleeping once again out of boredom since I had nothing to do besides hold on, the reigns in his hands. When I am awake we made small talk, I told him about Camelot, my job, but I stayed away from any further discussion of the knights and Merlin caught on as he didn’t ask any questions about them.

Merlin doesn’t really have a plan for when he gets to Camelot, only to find Gaius and then figure something out. I go to scold him then remember that I practically came in the same way. Once again, I am on the horse of a man who saved me, riding to Camelot. I should really start learning to save myself one of these days.

Soon enough, we get to the top of a hill which overlooks the white castle, a man on horseback passing us without a second glance. We come near the gates, which have four guards standing out the front. Being the afternoon, the town is bustling with people, making it harder to ride a horse through.

“We’d be better off walking from here,” I tell Merlin, dismounting with more effort than I care to admit. Merlin takes my warning, dismounting as well but with much more ease than I performed with. We walked up to the gate, Merlin leading the horse. The guard, a man I do not know comes forward.

“Miss Elena, you have returned. We have been altered that you were missing.”

“Oh so they do know who I am,” I mumble, honestly surprised. I must look like a mess, with ripped clothing, dried blood and dirt all over me. “Yes, I will make my way to Gaius but would you be able to have my horse taken up to the castle stable?”

“Of course, I shall let them know that you have returned as well.”

“Thank you.”

I turn back to Merlin who was watching the conversation with curiosity but doesn’t say anything, just handing the reigns over to the man. I gesture for him to follow as I lead him up to the castle. He offers an arm for support which I take silently but giving him a grateful smile instead. We move through the crowd which is as busy as usual on an afternoon in the middle of the week.

I watch as Merlin looks around which curious amazement, just as I had done when I first came here, struggling to take everything in. He catches me watching him. “What?”

“Nothing,” I giggle, “you just remind me of when I first came here. It’s overwhelming.”

I take everything in as though it is my first time here, only able to appreciate everything more than before. The spices and smell of baked goods waft through the air, accompanied by bells ringing and the chatter of everybody around us. Nobody takes notice which is odd, considering I am covered in blood but people are caught up in their own lives.

We cross the draw bridge that brings us into the Main Square of the Castle, open to commoners. Some announcement must be happening, as people crowd around a scene and I look up to the balcony where Uther Pendragon stands to address the crowd. Merlin, the curious fellow is turning out to be, pushes his way through the crowd, bringing me along with him.

“Let this serve as a lesson to all,” Uther calls out, the attention of the crowd drawn to him. A young man, no older than Castor is pulled onto a stage by Camelot knights. The boy is dressed in rags, a poverty-ridden look and I cannot help but feel pity for the boy, thinking about how that could have been me. “This man, Thomas James Collins, is adjudged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic. And, pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death. I pride myself as a fair and just king, but for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass.”

Another person, probably innocent of actual wrong doing sentenced to death. Knowing what I about to happen, I hide my face in the blue shirt Merlin wears but it still can’t hide the sound of the execution and the gasp of the people. Merlin is shocked. I feel the constriction of his chest and his grip tightening around my back.

“When I came to this land,” Uther continues, “this kingdom was mired in chaos, but with the people’s help magic was driven from the realm. So I declare a festival to celebrate twenty years since the Great Dragon was captured and Camelot freed from the evil of sorcery. Let the celebrations begin.” Uther’s voice displays the sense of achievement and joy, one I detest.

As the crowd cheers and begins to disperse, a loud wail erupts. Our heads turn to see it belong to a lady who looks like she is moments away from death with a head full of white hair and sagging skin.

“There is only one evil in this land, and it is not magic! It is you! With your hatred and your ignorance. You took my son. And I promise you,” she wails, the crowd moving away from her as she points to the king. “Before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son.” That is quite the monologue. But I don’t blame her, just having watched her own son be executed.

“Seize her,” Uther commands, sick of the woman’s threats. Before the guards even step close to her, the woman begins to chant under her breath but the words are no secret. A spell of some kind, as she disappears in a cloud of smoke and wind.

Merlin and I stand there, stunned by the events.

“I swear Camelot is not usually this dramatic,” I tell him, a wincing smile. “It’s usually quite calm.” The boy looks uncertain and unconvinced. And if he is the warlock of legend than he just realised the danger he is in being here. “I don’t think they should be killed personally, I don’t see what’s wrong with magic.” If he is a sorcerer than maybe I could offer him some comfort that not everybody thinks the same way as the king and if he is not, my words are not traitorous enough to get me locked up.

“You don’t believe so?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I think magic is a weapon. But like a sword, it just depends on the hands it is wielded by.” Merlin thinks about my analysis, nodding giving me a soft smile.

“That’s a good way to think about it. Now, how do we get to Gaius?”

“Oh, it should be done that way.” I point to a corridor in-between two guards who do not acknowledge us as we pass them. I sigh at the sight of the tower, steps not really being my friend right now. Merlin readjusts his hands, giving me more support as we climb them. To my pleasure, it is not far up and soon enough we reach the physician’s quarters.

Merlin knocks on the door, opening it before anybody answers. “Hello?” he calls out but no answer comes so we step inside further. I have always liked Gaius’s quarters, it seems almost like a potions lab with bottles and equipment lying about. Gaius stands on his second story, looking at something with enough focus not to hear us. “Hello, Gaius?” Merlin calls out again, clearing his throat. Unlike before, he hears my friend. Gaius leans back on the railing, made of rotting wood. The railing breaks, making my heart stop as he begins to fall.

As he is about to hit the floor, time seems to slow down for everything around me, or maybe just Gaius’ body. My head twirls to Merlin, just in time to see a gold light shine in his eyes when a bed moves, seemingly all by itself.

So it is him.

Time speeds up again, Gaius landing on the bed.

“Oh thank lord,” I exclaim in relief, hand flying to my chest. Gaius doesn’t feel the same relief, even though it was his life that was just risked. Merlin stutters, looking between me and Gaius, two people who have already seen his magic after just watching the execution of another sorcerer.

“Erm…” He tries to think of an explanation but nothing comes to his mind.

“Tell me!” Gaius commands, compelling me to lean back in shock. Gaius has always been the calm one.

“I-I-I have no idea what happened,” Merlin splutters out.

“Merlin, it's ok,” I say, reassuring the boy I wouldn’t turn him in.

“If anyone had seen that,” he begins, then points at me. “You’re lucky Elena is going to stay quiet.”

“Er, no! That – that was, that was nothing to do with me. That-that was..” Merlin keeps trying to defend himself. Poor kid is probably scared that he’s already ruined his life, less than half an hour of being at Camelot. 

“Merlin, we know what we both saw. You don’t have to hide it,” I chime in. If I had no idea about magic I think I would have fainted.

“I just want to know where you learned how to do it,’ Gaius exclaimed seeming more puzzled than angry.

“Nowhere,” Merlin exclaims.

“So how is it you know magic?”

“I don’t”

“Where did you study?” but Merlin can’t answer so he doesn’t. “Answer me!”

“I’ve never studied magic, or been taught,” he admits

“Are you lying to me boy?” Gaius accuses.

“What do you want me to say?” Merlin queries. I stand there, still bleeding from my shoulder with dried blood on my head and my back aching but this catfight has me looking back and forth between the two, utterly intrigued at the conversation.

“The truth!”

“I was born like this!”

“That’s impossible. Who are you?” Gaius asks in disbelief. I roll my eyes.

“I have said his name at least twice,” I interject, but still Gaius doesn’t look at me. “And nobody listens,” I add, mumbling to myself. Merlin lets go of me to unhook his backpack, pulling out a piece of parchment.

“I have this letter.”

“I don’t have my glasses.”

“I’m Merlin.” Gaius demeanour changes from one of confusion to understanding.

“Hunith’s son?” he asks. Merlin seems relieved that finally something of mutual comprehension is achieved.

“Yes!”

“But you’re not meant to be here till Wednesday.” He announces. Sick of the bickering while I continue to stand in pain I decide to let my voice be heard.

“For the love of the stars, it is Wednesday!” I shout, “and Gaius, if you don’t mind – I was shot with an arrow in my shoulder and my back and head hurt too and I would love something for the pain.”

Gaius looks over me in shock. “Well, why didn’t you say so, Merlin place her on this bed while I get something for you.” I roll my eyes, muttering.

“I would have but you two seemed caught up. Would hate to distract.” The words are intended for only me to hear but Merlin snickers, overhearing me. I lie down on the bed, which is nowhere near as comfy as my own but I had been sleeping on the ground for the last few days so I don’t think complaining is fair.

“Alright, thank you, Merlin, you can put your bag in there,” Gaius instructs, pointing to the spare room.

“You won’t say anything about, erm..” he finishes, unsure how to word it.

“No,” Gaius shakes his head. “Although, Merlin, I should say thank you.” He gives the boy a kind smile and nod. Merlin grins back in appreciation, going up to his new room.

Gaius brings over a potion, instructing me to take it all.

“This is for the pain.” He helps sit up, first looking over the roughly bandaged shoulder wound, my shirt torn there from both the arrow and ground. The bandages, which are old pieces of cloths, are damp with blood. I wince as Gaius pulls them away from the wound. “Well, the bandages did help a little, considering you haven’t bled out yet.” He begins cleaning away a wound with a water bowl and clean rag.

The door to the quarters slams open, a feisty looking redhead coming straight through.

“Torj,” I cry out, nearly bursting into tears again. He looks ragged, his hair not brushed and instead of his chainmail, only a white shirt with spots of red on his stomach. Torj storms over to me, surprising Gaius who leans back to allow space for him. “I didn’t know if you were alive.”

Instead of engulfing me in a hug, which would just cause more pain, his hands find my neck, cupping it. His eyes also hold tears of his own but of relief, much like my own.

“You thought I was dead, - lassie, I saw you get shot. I thought you were dead.” His eyes wander over me as if taking me in for the first time. “I just got word from one of the guards that you had entered the city and were headed for here.”

“What happened to you?” I question, looking at the blood. Gaius still worked in the background, tending to my shoulder.

“One of them bandits cut me but it was nothing too serious. Harris got stabbed but he lived.” He looks down, making me fear the worst as he didn’t mention Carter or Leon. My heart rate pulses as my stomach drops.

“What, Torj. Leon, Carter. What happened to them?” I ask, wanting to rip the bandaid off. Torj renders my question, shaking his head but smiles.

“No, no. They’re fine. I’m just so sorry we couldn’t look for you. Harris was on his deathbed and Leon couldn’t find you so we had to come back.” His eyes portray guiltiness. I swallow, taking his face in my own hands.

“No, you saved Harris life. And you all saved mine,” I assure him, brushing my fingers over his beard. He lets out a teary laugh.

“Leon and Castor are back out there, looking for you. Refused to believe you were dead.” His eyes furrow. “What did happen out there?”

“Well now I know who has faith in me,” I tease, smirking. “But I fell from my horse. Got caught in the stirrup and she dragged me for who knows how long. Knocked myself unconscious and this boy found me, Merlin. He helped me back.”

“Remind me to thank this boy.”

“When are Leon and Castor coming back?” I am glad beyond belief that they are both safe, unharmed but I am desperate to see them, for my own sanity.

“When they find you,” Torj jokes. “They were pretty set on finding you. But I’ve sent a guard out to retrieve them. They might be back tonight or tomorrow depending on where they went.”

Gaius moved onto my head, after putting a poultice on my shoulder, wrapping it back up in clean bandages. “You should stay here the night, maybe tomorrow’s just to make sure you don’t have any head problems and that your back and shoulder don’t become infected.” I nod in agreement with his words. Torj, unable to do his knightly duties stays with me for the afternoon, even meeting Merlin as he came down to dinner which Gaius makes for all of us.

“So you’re the boy who saved Elena?” he asks, smiling kindly. Merlin pauses, shrugging.

“I suppose. I just helped her get to Gaius really,’ he replies modestly.

Nonsense,” he shakes his head, putting a heavy hand on the boy’s shoulder which comically sags under the weight. “She would not have made it this far without you. So thank you, Merlin.” Merlin blushes, hiding his face behind a spoonful of stew.

“Your faith in me is inspiring,” I deadpan to Torj who only replies with a mutter of ‘it’s true.’


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I sit at the table, eating away at the porridge. It is watered-down and disgusting in texture but it is food so I eat it, hiding my gagging behind a fist to my mouth. Merlin walks down the stairs, a cheery smile across his face.

“Good morning Merlin,” I sing to him.

“Morning, Elena,” he sings back, cringing as he looks at my breakfast. I give him a ‘yeah, I know’ type of look. Gaius who was fumbling with his things doesn’t give Merlin the same upbeat greeting.

“I got you water. You didn’t wash last night.”

“Sorry.”

“And help yourself to breakfast,” he tells him, gesturing to the bowl opposite me on the table. Merlin sits down, picking up the spoon then looks to me. I give him a quirk of the eyebrow and dip of the head, egging him to eat it. But before the first spoonful reaches him mouth Gaius’s arm knocks off a bucket of water that is sitting on the table. I watch Merlin, who stands abruptly stare at the bucket, his eyes turning gold once again. The bucket suspends itself in mid-air, water, paused like a picture. Gaius gasps, although I’m not sure why. We know the boy can do magic.

All three of us look at each other, Merlin letting the bucket drop to the ground.

“How did you do that? Did you incant a spell in your mind?” Gaius questions. That began to make more sense. I have no idea how magic worked, so maybe sorcerers usually had to say a spell, like in Harry Potter.

“I don’t know any spells,” Merlin shrugs. Gaius’s mind can be seen, running through the possibilities.

“So what did you do? There must be something.” He seems more confused than ever.

“It just happens,” Merlin tells him, probably sick of explaining himself by now on something he doesn’t even seem to understand himself.

“Well, we better keep you out of trouble. You can help me until I find some paid work for you. Here.” He hands the boy a small sac and bottle. “Hollyhock and Feverfew for Lady Percival.”

“Wait, do we have a Sir Percival too?” I question. I know the name Percival belonged to a knight in the legend but I hadn’t come across one here in Camelot.

“No, she’s an older lady, widowed. And this is for Sir Olwin. He’s as blind as a weevil, so warn him not to take it all at once.”

“Okay,” Merlin agrees, taking the items.

“And here,” he hands Merlin a plate with a freshly made sandwich. I look down at my own breakfast which is finished in disbelief. “It was actually meant for you Elena but you’re eating my porridge.” I drop my shoulders, open-mouthed.

“Could’ve told me that,” I grumble.

“Off you go. And Merlin, I need hardly tell you that the practice of any form of enchantments will get you killed.” Merlin nods, exiting the quarters.

I wait till Merlin leaves, turning back to Gaius who picks up Merlin’s porridge. “You shouldn’t scare the boy too much. One of the first things he saw coming here was the execution of that man yesterday,” I tell him. Gaius sighs.

“The boy is young and inexperienced. He needs someone to reel him in or he’s going to do something stupid and end up like that man.” I sigh, silently agreeing.

“I might go out for a while. It’s my shoulder that is sore, not my legs.”

“Just be careful,” he warns, giving me a stern look.

“Always.”

I passed by Gwen and Morgana greeting them before moving down to the city. Nothing ever seems to change here. Then again, nothing really changed at home either. I still call it home, even though I have no lived there in a year. I should start calling Camelot by that name but there is still a shred of hope in me that it might not be forever.

I stay near to the main road, thinking I could see Leon and Castor if they return. Arthur and his buddies are training as well. If you can call throwing knives at a poor servant training. I know that it is wrong but he is literally a prince, and I can’t say anything to him so I keep my head low, moving away from the scene.

Horse hooves clatter against the stone path. I turn my head as they near me. Two men, donned in red cloaks are riding, making me grin as they see me at the same time. Before I can say anything, they both dismount, striding up to me and engulf me in a hug. They smell of horse and grass, with a little bit of sweat mixed in. I ignore the pain in my shoulder, not wanting to take away from this moment.

“Are you alright? The guard didn’t say anything except you were with Gaius?” Leon inquires, searching my body. I nod giving him a confident smile.

“Honestly I’m fine. I was shot but it was just the shoulder,” I say, putting a hand on it to ease the flare of pain. “Just damaged some muscle is all. Thank you, for going back out to look for me.” They don’t need to know everything.

“Of course, we would never just leave you out there alone,” Leon tells me, brushing my hair behind my ear. “Torj wanted to come but he couldn’t ride and we needed to move fast.”

“I saw him last night when I got back.”

“We’re sorry we couldn’t find you, Leon, he,” Castor begins to tell me, looking at Leon. “He searched for hours for you in the forest but it was like you had just disappeared or something and Torj said you had gotten shot. We thought they might have taken you. Or that you were dead” He looks distressed, as though the last few days have been hard on him. Leon looks the same but was smiling.

“I was saved by this boy, Merlin. You should meet him, he’s very sweet. Come, we shall go find him.” I take their arms in my hands, guiding them back up to the castle area where I assume I will find the boy and they don’t protest. I wanted everybody to know that he was the one I owe my life to, for I can never be thankful enough. I know that if the knights know this boy saved their friend, they would treat him kindly enough. Servants nearby take their horses. “Also, when’s our next hunting trip,” I taunt. Both glare at me not laughing. “Tough crowd.”

We get back up to a courtyard where Arthur was before, still throwing knives at the poor boy, mocking him. He drops the shield he was carrying, it rolls on the ground. A foot stops it, one that belongs to a familiar body.

“Oh hey, that him,” I tell the boys. I go to call out for him, Merlin speaks up.

“Hey, come on, that’s enough,” he calls to Arthur. Maybe I should have introduced him to a few people before letting him wander. Leon and Castor stand beside me, my hand still gripping both their arms as we watch the scene about to unfold.

“What?” Arthur asks perplexed at what this boy just said to him.

“You’ve had my fun, my friend.” I stand there, wide-eyed.

“I think your friend might not be alive much longer,” Castor mentions. I don’t respond.

“Do I know you?” Arthur walks up to Merlin, checking him out, nose crinkling. Seeing them together up close is like seeing day and night. A skinny, dark-haired boy who is cheeky but means well. Then a muscled blond who acts like an entitled prat. They both have a lot to learn and grow.

“Er, I’m Merlin.” He holds out his hand.

“Does your friend know who he’s talking to?” Leon asks, just as intrigued as Castor. I shake my head, tightening my grip on his wrist.

“So I don’t know you.”

“No.”

“Yet you called me ‘friend’.”

“Oh boy,” I whisper.

“Should you go save the poor soul?” Castor asks me. I shake my head.

“Camelot is boring, this is the first drama I’ve seen in ages. Let me live it through,” I hiss back. 

“Remind me to take you to one of those travelling theatre groups,” Leon chuckles.

“That was my mistake,” our attention is drawn back to the two boys.

“Yes, I think so.” Arthur’s arrogance peeks through every crevice of his body, arms crossed.

“Yeah. I’d never have a friend who could be such an ass,” Merlin retorts full of sass, turning to walk away.

“I think I’m gonna faint,” I mutter, leaning onto Leon in shock. He goes to grab me but realises that I am just overdramatic so he rolls his eyes, placing his hand that I used to grip around my back to hold me steady. I really feel like I should have intervened but I am just stuck here, watching it. It’s like my own reality tv show, happening right before my eyes. 

“Or I one who could be so stupid,” Arthur snorts, making Merlin stop in his path. “Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?”

“No.”

“Would you like me to help you?”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” he replies, a new sense of confidence. I know why he feels this way, begin able to perform magic with nothing but the intention to, but he wasn’t stupid enough to actually perform magic in front of everybody is he?

“Why?” Arthur laughs. “What are you going to do to me?”

“You have no idea,” a smirk playing on his lips.

“You know what, I like this boy,” Castor perks, nodding approvingly. I smack his arm but pull it back as pain shot down from my shoulder. Castor snickers at me, Leon glaring at him.

“Be my guest! Come on! Come on! Come ooooon,” Arthur teases, trying to provoke the boy.

“I can’t watch,” I exclaim, turning my head into Leon’s side. I hear the sound of an arm flying and something happening. The knights around let out a gasp.

“He actually tried to hit him?” I gasp myself, turning back to the scene to see Arthur holding Merlin’s arm behind his back.

“I can have you thrown in jail for that.”

“Who do you think you are? The King?”

“No. I’m his son, Arthur.”

“And there it is,” I mumble, seeing Merlin’s eye realise what he has just done. Guards take Merlin from Arthur, escorting him to the dungeons.

“Hope you didn’t like him too much,” Castor announces as everybody else moves back to what they were doing. “Don’t think he’s going to be around much more.”

“Shut up. And I said he was sweet, not smart. I’ve got to get him out of there.” I let go of Castor and move out of Leon’s arms. “I’ll find you lot later.” Feeling bad for leaving them as this is the first time seeing them since thinking I might be dead.

“Where are you going?” Leon calls out as I get further away.

“To return the favour!” I call back, heading to where Arthur went.

Arthur had moved fast, back into the castle but he is alone, making it easier for me to talk to him.

“Arthur,” I yell out, jogging painfully to catch up to him. Hearing me, he turns around with an eyebrow raised.

“Elena, I’m glad you are safe.” He says.

“Arthur please, I have a favour to ask you,” I admit, wringing my hands together. He raises his eyebrows in question, egging me to continue. “The boy, Merlin. He’s too one that saved my life.”

“And you want me to release him, unpunished,” he rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m glad you have made it back alive but he tried to insult me. In front of everybody and I can’t let people do that.”

“Well… he doesn’t have to go unpunished,” I say, stressing my syllables. “Just something that’s not as long as the dungeons. Gaius does need him for work you know.” I throw my hands up, grunting in pain at my shoulder which I seem to always forget. Arthur groans, throwing his own head back. “Please.”

“Fine. But you owe me three new shirts by the end of the week. And get him to the stocks,” he gives in, pointing his finger to make his point. He turns around, leaving the conversation there. I pump my hand in the air in success.

“I’ve got to tell Gaius.”

Usually, I was passive to the stocks; the person in them usually deserved it. And Merlin does if I am honest. What he did was slightly brave, but completely stupid. At least this isn’t a permanent thing.

I run in the direction of Gaius. In the corridor, I pass Castor, Leon, and Torj who has caught up with the other two. I don’t stop as I usually would have, instead running straight past them.

“Merlin’s going in the stocks!” I yell at them, laughing. I hear them laugh but I keep running.

“Gaius! Gaius! Gaius! Gaius!” I yell, opening the door to his quarters. The poor man drops his tool in surprise.

“My heart!” he clasps his chest. “Elena, what is wrong?” I take in a deep breathe.

“Well, Merlin decided he wanted to be a hero and stood up to Arthur while he was out near the others out in one of the training courts. Anyways, don’t worry he didn’t use magic but he insulted Arthur and of course, he didn’t take that well so now Merlin is in the dungeons,” I spit out in one breathe. Gaius stands there in shock, registering my words. He goes to speak but I continue again. “But don’t worry, I spoke to Arthur and he’s out of jail but he’s got to go to the stocks and we get the honour of taking him.”

“Well,” he sighs. “I did try to warn him. We should go get him.” He pauses, making a thinking face. “Or we could give him an hour to think about what he’s done,’ he suggests, eyes waggling. I return the expression.

I hang around in Gaius’ places, questioning everything that takes my interest. The bottles, the tools, the flowers. It is so different from modern medicine, that I figure it would be useful to maybe have some information if I may ever need it in the future.

“And this one?” I ask, picking up a bottle.

“Antidote to the bite of a Mortis snake. The red and black striped one,” he tells me, sitting down, letting me question him. I lean back, looking out the window.

“It’s been long enough. We should go get him so the kids have enough time to throw stuff at him.”

Gaius agrees and we stroll down to the dungeons at a leisurely pace. Once we arrive, we see Merlin bending over, face pressing down against the ground.

“Merlin?” I ask both amused and baffled as we open the door. He looks up, grinning.

“You never cease to amaze me! The one thing that someone like you should do is keep your head down, and what do you do? You behave like an idiot.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re lucky I’m on Arthur’s good side, you idiot. You can leave the cell,” I tell him.

“Oh thank you. Thank you,” he moves forward to hug me.

“I wouldn’t be thanking her so fast,” Gaius says, mouth twitching upwards.

I stand back, watching the kids grab their baskets of rotting fruit and throw it at Merlin who is shackled in to the stocks. Gaius has to go back to work, laughing loudly at the sight but I stay around to watch. I’ve taken a liking to this boy as though something draws me to him.

As the kids have to go refill their baskets, Gwen goes up the Merlin and introduces herself.

“I’m Merlin, but most people just call me idiot,” he tells her, holding out his hand as much as possible for Gwen to shake.

“It’s true,” I announce walking up to both. “Gwen, this is the boy who bought me back. And the proceeded to go against the prince.”

“I saw what you did. It was so brave,” Gwen says, sounding flushed. Is she flattering him? Didn’t think he was her type.

“It was stupid.”

“Well, I’m glad you walked away. You weren’t going to beat him.”

“Oh, I-I can beat him.”

“You think?” she bites her lip, looking at him unsure. “Because you don’t look like one of those big, muscle-y kind of fellows.”

“Nice wording Gwen,” I giggle, making her nudge me with her shoulder.

“Thanks,” Merlin deadpans.

“No! No, I'm sure you're stronger than you look. It's just, erm... Arthur's one of these real rough, tough, save the world kind of men, and... well...” she trails, not wanting to insult him but doing just that. Merlin, however, takes it in stride, motioning her to come closer.

“I’m in disguise,” he says, with a fake suspicious voice making both Gwen and I giggle.

“Besides, Arthur can be a bully, so it’s kinda cool that you stood up to him. Nobody has really done that,” I tell him trying to make him feel better. He already knows it was stupid so I wouldn’t drag it out

“Everyone thought you were a hero,” Gwen adds with a raised eyebrow. Merlin’s eyes flash, seeing the kids return.

“Really? Oh, excuse me, ladies. My fans await.”

We move out of the way, eager not to be hit with flying vegetables.

“He’s sweet,” Gwen says to me, blushing slightly.

“Somebody fancies him,” I tease. Gwen shushes me, hiding her face. “But yes, he is very sweet. And adorable.”


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“Uther is throwing a festival tomorrow night. The Lady Helen is performing,” Castor informs me. “Man, that woman has a voice.” He sighs, leaning back against his chair. We are in his room, I was mending his shirt which is torn from the bandits and Castor insisted I stayed to keep him company as well.

“Lady Helen? Yeah, I remember her from when she came for Morgana’s birthday. In fact, Uther has ordered me to make her a dress. Which I finished just before we left for hunting. Thank the lord he gave me early notice of his intentions to hold a banquet or I fear the lady may be wearing nothing.” The needle pricks my finger making me mutter an ‘ow’ and suck on it.

“Seriously? Your such a baby,” Castor scoffs, rolling his eyes. I lean over the table, pricking his shoulder with the needle. “Hey – ow!”

“Baby,” I mock. Castor studies me for a few moments. “What?” Not answering, he walks over from his spot and wraps me in a second hug of today, this time being careful of my shoulder. “Is everything ok?” I ask, still smothered by him.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I’m just glad you’re back. I knew you couldn’t be dead but Leon was freaking out a lot and it made me doubt it. You should try riding with him when he’s freaking out, his horse goes crazy,” he laughs. I giggle back, letting go from the embrace. Castor is just like me, couldn’t hold a serious moment without throwing in a little comedy.

“I love you all.”

“Don’t be saying that too loud,” he hushes, “I don’t want the ladies to think I’m taken.” My head falls back, letting out the laugh I needed.

Just as I am going back to sewing, the door flies open. Leon stands there, looking flustered as though he just ran from the other side of Camelot. I stand up, anxious.

“What’s wrong, Leon?” The man goes to answer but holds up a finger to hold himself together. He looks like he is laughing.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t laugh before but –but your friend, Merlin, he just tried to fight the Prince again,” he lets out, holding his stomach. Oh god, why is he laughing? Merlin is going to be killed. Literally.

“Wha-“

“Don’t worry,” Leon assures. “Merlin must have a pot of luck. Arthur just kept tripping up and Merlin nearly walked away. He’s fine though, Arthur let him go.”

“Arthur…let him go?”

“I saw it with my own eyes.” I run a hand down my face. "He mentioned your name but I couldn't hear much."

“Gaius is going to be furious,” I mutter, packing up my stuff. “I’ll finish your shirt later, Castor. I’ve got to go save Merlin.” I pass by the two knights, putting my stuff back in my room which has not been slept in since I left for hunting, staying another night with Gaius.

“How could you be so foolish?” Gaius demands as I walk through the door. Merlin looks tired, fed up with the day.

“He needed to be taught a lesson.”

“It will be a useless lesson when you are dead,” I speak up, striding to place my hands on the boy’s shoulders forcing him to look me in the eyes. “I know you want to do something but you can’t just do these things. Especially with the prince.”

“I don’t want to control myself. I don’t have anything except magic. Without it, I’m just a nobody and I always will be. I might as well die if I can’t use it.” Merlin releases himself from my grip, sauntering away to his chambers. I look over to Gaius, who looks just as worn as Merlin.

“I’m going to make something for his back,” he grumbles.

I walk up the stairs to his room, slowly pushing open the door. Merlin sits on his bed, his head in his hands, resting on his knees. This is not the time to lecture, so I step over to his bed, sitting myself down next to him. I wait a moment, to see if he wants to tell me to leave but he doesn’t say anything.

“You will never be nothing,” I say, my hand going to stroke his dark hair. I hear him sniffle, as though holding in a sob. Pity and sorrow melt through me for the poor boy. The boy who came to Camelot just like me, hoping to find somewhere safe but yet we found two different paths. I move my hand softly over his back, careful of the abrasions on his shirt which are probably where he was hit, embracing him. I rest my head on his shoulder, rubbing my hand in circles as though I am a mother to a child. I know my affection is needed as he leans into me.

Gaius comes after a while in with a bowl and cloth. Releasing Merlin, I tell him, “I’ve got to go, but I will talk to you later.” I get up from the bed, letting Gaius tend to his wounds as I go down to the main area. Grunting, I realise I left my sewing things back in my room. I figure that I’m healthy enough to stay back in my own room, there is no sign of infection and my head has been fine. Glancing back at Merlin’s door, I give it a small smile then leave.

“Are you invited to the Festival?” Merlin asks. I am following him around while he completes his tasks for Gaius, acting as a guide around the castle rather than having to ask the guards. They just point and grunt, whereas I can provide actual civil conversation.

“Yes, the King likes to invite me when I make something for a guest and I like the pleasure of seeing it being worn. I made Lady Helen a dress for the night so I shall be there. You are attending with Gaius?”

“We’re supposed to be working tonight, but I don’t know what a physician and his assistant would do at a banquet.”

“No idea to be truthful.”

We round the corner and I point to a door belonging to Lady Morgana’s chambers. I wait outside by the door as Merlin walks in.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about Arthur. I wouldn't touch him with a lance pole. Pass me that dress, will you Gwen?” Morgana asks, walking to her screen. Merlin looks uncertain but fetches her dress for her. I stand there, watching to see what happens, glancing around the chambers for Gwen who is nowhere in sight. “I mean, the man’s a total jouster. And just because I’m the King’s ward, that doesn’t mean I have to accompany him to the feast does it.” Merlin doesn’t answer. “Well, does it?”

Merlin winces, letting out a high pitched, “Mh-Mmm.” He looks back at me and I return the look, open-mouthed, holding in a laugh.

“If he wants me to go, then he should invite me, and he hasn’t.” Merlin looks at me desperately, waving for me to swap places but I put up my hands in defence. I am not getting myself in that situation. “So do you know what that means?”

Merlin lets out another high pitch hum.

“Where are you?” Morgana looks out from her screen. I lean back, out of her sight but watch as Merlin lifts a dress to hide himself.

“It means I’m going by myself. I need some help with this fastening.” Gwen appears from behind me, making me jump in the air and hold my chest. She looks at me confused which only greatens as she walks in to see Merlin looking around desperately. “Gwen?”

“I’m here,” she calls out. Merlin turns around and they have a silent conversation. Gwen understands and signals for the boy to leave, which he does without hesitation, joining me at the door. We jog away from the chambers before I let out the laugh I was holding in.

“Why didn’t you save me?” he squeaked. I shrug.

“I’m not Gwen either and I do not want to be known for that squeaky voice you did,’ I retort. “I have to go get dressed for the feast too, so I’ll see you there,” I wave at him.

“Thanks for all the help,” he replies rather sarcastically.

I stand to the side in the Banquet hall, seeing my friends but keeping my position as a serving member in the court. Torj and Castor, however, see me and walk over to me to make conversation.

“Remind me to tell Leon that he doesn’t need to take me to a travelling theatre anymore. All I need to do is hang around Merlin. He’s like a dramatic comedy.”

“The boy really that entertaining?” Torj laughs, glancing over to where Merlin and Gaius stand. “Well if he is always like he was yesterday I see where you are coming from.” He glances around once more. “Where is Leon anyways?”

“Said he wasn’t coming. Told Arthur he was sick but he just didn’t want to go to another boring festival,” Castor says, taking a sip of his drink. “All I know is there is free mead.” His eyes stare at his cup with desire, licking his lips.

“Leon doesn’t want to spend the night drinking with you two? How unheard of,” I reply in deadpan.

“I didn’t know you were coming lass, and Leon didn’t either actually,” Torj points out. “Probably could have convinced him if he knew.”

“I made Lady Helen’s dress. I get the pleasure of seeing her wear it,” I shrug, disappointed that one the stooges aren’t here. “I’m going to go talk to Merlin and Gaius.” I bid them farewell, making my way over to the two people I find myself spending more and more time around.

As I approach them, I notice Merlin’s attention drawn elsewhere. I follow his eyes to Lady Morgana who is wearing a high collared, red dress.

“Merlin.” Gaius snaps his assistant out of focus, “Remember, you are here to work.”

I love Morgana with all my heart, but I feel the familiar pang of envy as all the men stare at her. Not that I would want to be her, but to just know that you hold the power and not be off to the side. Gwen and Merlin talk as I chatter with Gaius, letting Gwen talk with her crush. But we speak rather quietly, both trying to overhear Merlin and Gwen talking.

“No, I didn’t mean you, obviously. Not you. But just, you know, I like much more ordinary men like you,” she stutters out.

“Thanks,” Merlin replies, both turning away from each other. I lean over, whispering in Gaius’ ear.

“You teach Merlin how to talk to girls and I teach Gwen?” he looks at me with large eyes, nodding.

“That was pathetic,” he agrees.

Soon the official banquet begins, with the court sitting at two lines of tables and the serving people such as myself, standing around to the side.

“We have enjoyed twenty years of peace and prosperity. It has bought the kingdom and myself many pleasures, but few can compare with the honour of introducing Lady Helen of Mora.”

Lady Helen stands on a small stage on the other side of the hall, donned a dress was not what I delivered her this morning. She begins to sing.

“That’s not the dress I gave her,’ I grumble, insulted.

Her voice is melodic, enchanting almost. The words sound like a lullaby to put a child to sleep. She steps off her stage and slowly strides forward towards to the main table where the King and Prince sit. I yawn, hiding it behind my hand. I glance around, seeing other people feeling the same. I wasn’t tired coming here.

One by one, members of the banquet begin to fall asleep, including the King and Prince. I look at Merlin who also realises this and he puts his hands to his ears. My hands rise to do the same thing, but the singing lulls me to sleep just like the others. I look at Merlin in fear, not knowing what is going to happen as I lean against the wall, sliding down it, falling into a deep sleep.

My eyes open again, only in darkness with cobwebs attaching themselves to me. The entire hall is in the same state. I gasp, seeing Lady Helen crushed under a chandelier. Or, what is supposed to be Lady Helen. Instead, Mary Collins, the witch from before lies there. Apparently not dead, she pushes herself up, throwing a dagger forward.

I don’t know how Merlin does it, - actually, that’s a lie, - but he reaches towards Arthur, pulling him back to the ground just before the knife strikes his chair. Mary dies, Uther, Arthur and the rest of the court staring at Merlin and the woman.

“You saved my boy’s life. A debt must be repaid,” he says.

“Oh, well...” Merlin shies.

“Don’t be so modest. You shall be rewarded.”

“No, honestly, you don’t have to, Your Highness,” Merlin smiles at the recognition.

“No, absolutely. This Merits something quite special,” he insists. Merlin gives in.

“Well…”

“You shall be rewarded a position in the royal household. You shall be Prince Arthur’s manservant,” he announces. I snort, covering it behind my hand.

“Father!” Arthur exclaims, looking at Uther in disbelief.

Due to the circumstances of the night, the banquet is cut short. I walk back to our chambers with Torj and Castor as we gush about the night.

“And did you see his face?” I cry out, laughing without holding back. Tears dropped from my cheeks. Unfortunately. I am going to have to put up with both Arthur and Merlin complaining about the other but it is going to be worth it. 

“He looked ready to kill,” Castor says, laughing just as hard as me. The door to Leon’s chambers opens. Unlike us, he is dressed in just a plain shirt and brown pants, his hair a mess as though he just got out of his bed which he probably did. 

“What are you lot going on about?’ he questions, yawing. Torj clasps his shoulders. "I could hear you from a league away."

“Laddie, you just missed out on an eventful night. That Merlin boy is full of surprises and Elena can give us the inside information too now since she's all buddy-buddy with him.” Leon looks shocked, looking at me as I still laugh, clinging to Castor. The best thing about these three is they could find humour in the darkest cave. "Oh and Arthur nearly died but he's fine."

“Oh, I guess I should’ve come then,” he replies flatly. I frown, looking at my friend, sobering up.

“Are you ok, Leon?”

He nods, looking down. “Yeah. Just..” he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Things on my mind.”

“Ok,” I nod, as the other two still joke around with each other. “You know I’m always around to listen if you need an ear.”

“Thanks. I know,” he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s something very personal if he doesn’t want to tell me so I let it go.

“Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Merlin and I walk through the town, the night coming on. He has finished the days work with Arthur not an hour ago and my fingers are sore from sewing Leon new shirts. Weeks have passed since Merlin’s new position as Arthur’s manservant and I didn’t miss out on a single detail of the day as Merlin often came to find me to rant about all the duties the Prince insists they do.

“Have you smelt his socks?” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. I readjust the basket of cloth in my arms as we wander through the stalls.

“I’m afraid I haven’t. I don’t imagine they smell like daisies though,” I say, crinkling my nose.

“Well I have, and I think his chamber pot smells nicer.”

I look up at the boy, a line across his brow and his cheek in between his teeth. I stop walking, staring at him. Merlin walks forward a few more steps before looking to his side, seeing I’m not next to him. He turns around looking for me, looking like a lost puppy and when he does see me he walks backwards, puzzled.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask before he can say anything.

“What?” he says, trying to play it off, eyes darting around. I don’t say anything, just continue staring at him. I read about it as a psychological trick, that to get people to say something you just watch them expectantly and they feel the need to fill the conversation. And it seems to work.

“Did you know there’s supposed to be a dragon underneath the castle?” My forehead creases, thinking about how weird this conversation is going to become.

“No, I didn’t that. Where are you going with this?”

He looks around sceptically, biting his lip. “I can trust you right. I mean, you already know my biggest secret so what’s another.”

“Merlin, if you didn’t trust me, you wouldn’t want to tell me, but obviously you do,” I state, squinting up at him.

“Come on,” he mumbles, grabbing my arm. He leads me away from the main street, into a side alley.

The sun doesn’t reach inside the alley, shadows casting over everything. A loose chicken waddles through. What’s a chicken doing inside the main city? Merlin runs a hand through his hair.

“Alright. So, I heard this voice calling for me underneath the castle-“

“Because that’s normal,” I remark. Merlin glares at me, tight-lipped. “Sorry, continue.”

“So I went down below the castle, into the caves.” He pauses, looking around for a sign of anybody listening. “I spoke to the dragon.”

“You spoke to a dragon?” I whisper yell at him, agape. Merlin shushes me but nods. “What…what did the dragon say?”

“He told me that it was my destiny. To be here. That I was born with magic for a reason and I’m supposed to protect Arthur.” I bite my tongue, thinking about what it all means. Melin watches me wide eyed waiting for my response. Maybe I should tell him, he trusts me with his secrets, it’s only fair that I can trust him. I feel guilty though, telling somebody I have only met a month or so ago yet my closest friends for a year don’t have a clue. But I push those feelings aside knowing the circumstances are different.

“Merlin. I’m going to tell you something really important.” I search his eyes. The puppy dog eyes I’ve grown accustomed to searching my own. “So you know that I came to Camelot a year ago and I’ve told everybody that I came from across the seas and that’s why I have a weird accent and say some weird words sometimes.”

“Are you not?”

“Yes, but it’s not the whole truth.” I scrunch my eyes, not believing what I am about to reveal to another living soul. “I’m from the future,” I string out.

Merlin makes a string of faces, his mouth blubbering as though trying to say ‘what’ but the sound not quite making it out. “I know that sounds crazy. But it's true. Like a thousand or so years in the future. I was in bed studying for school and then this weird bearded man showed up in my room and zapped me into the forest where I woke up. I wasn’t attacked by bandits – well, I was when I met you but different thing, - I was taken from my time and placed here. And I haven’t told anybody, but I think we could trust Gaius. I don’t know why or how but here I am.”

“That is…”

“Crazy. We’ve established.”

“But, why? Why would someone go to the effort of sending you back here?” he questions, scratching his neck. I throw my hands up.

“I don’t know but it’s a big coincidence that I’ve landed in Camelot.”

“What do you mean?”

“There's..this legend in my time. Mostly different versions of the story but its called the Arthurian legend. It’s about King Arthur and this wizard,” I say, exaggerating the end. Merlin points to himself, mouthing ‘me?’ “Yes! So whatever this dragon is telling you about destiny is true. And I – I don’t know much about the legends. In most of them you a bit of a crazy old guy so I can’t even help you there.”

Merlin sucks on his lips looking around. It’s even darker now, the sun just about to set.

“Tell me everything again,” he says. I sigh, beginning my story in more detail.

\--

“Man this has been a long week,” I sigh, stretching my arms. My shoulder is nearly healed but the muscles and tendons would be sore for a while.

“Are you complaining? I’m the one who had to save Arthur from Valiant and those snakes. You just kept yelling at me that Arthur was going to die!” Merlin scoffs with a short laugh.

“I was stressed!” I defend making us both laugh at my patheticness. It is true though, just this week, Merlin had managed to save Arthur from this ‘knight’ using sorcery to win a tournament.

“Merlin hurry hurry!” he squeaks, mocking me. I roll my eyes, punching him in the arm. “Hey!”

“For the record, my voice is not that high.”

“Hey, how come Arthur likes you? Like, he actually listens to you when you speak. If I talk it's like I’m just a bee passing by,” he huffs, crossing his arms. “We’re technically the same status.”

“Probably because the first time I met him I didn’t call him a prat,” I point out. “Oh, and he was drinking so I’ve probably been associated with good memories.”

Merlin wrinkles his nose, picking up the clothes we are taking to have washed by the castle’s housemaids. And I found out that Arthur’s socks really do smell.

“What was your life like? Before Camelot I mean?” Merlin questions, a more sober tone reigning as we pace through to the laundry area. I suck my lips, smiling back at the memories.

“It was simple. I studied at a place called a university, I was training to be a teacher. Life was pretty boring. Camelot was like that till you came along you know. Nobody had tried to kill Arthur yet, and now you’ve saved his life twice in less than a month.”

“Gaius says I just attract trouble. Do you like it here or do you want to go home?”

The question felt like a heavy boulder on me that I had been trying to lift but couldn’t hold.

“I..I don’t know,” I say, leaning against the wall. “I love it here, the city, the people. But I feel like I don’t belong here - truly. Like it could be taken away from me at any moment. I don’t want to leave but like coming here, I feel like it’s out of my control.” Merlin looks at me, understanding my words but doesn’t know how to answer them. I glance at the washing in my hands. “Oh, we should get going, me and some of my friends have dinner together once a week.”

“Oh,” the disappointment seeps through.

“It’s with Sir Leon, Castor and Torj. You are welcome to join if you wish,” I offer, truly hoping that they could officially meet each other. I can’t back down on the knights, not having talked to them properly in a while with helping Merlin and my job. But the boy shakes his head, giving a short smile.

“I have to polish Arthur’s armour tonight anyways,” he grinds. “And do his washing, muck out his stables. And walk his dogs.”

“Alright,” I laugh, “I get the point. Arthur drains you into no social life.”

“He thinks I don’t have any social skills anyways.”

“I think he likes you more than you think, you know,” I remark.

“So he just dislikes me, not loathe.”

“You get paid.”

“Not enough.”

\--

Castor and I walk, inconspicuously towards the kitchens. Just a knight and a servant.

“Could you stop?” he mutters just after we pass some guards.

“Stop what?” I mutter back, keeping my face rigid. We turn into a corridor, passing by some of the cooks. Castor gives them a flirty smile before his face drops back down.

“You just look guilty.”

“I’m not even doing anything,” I hiss, trying to relax myself.

I’ve stolen from the kitchens before, ever since I accidentally found them but I always waited till nightfall when the staff left and the key was plainly hidden. But Castor wanted something better besides the usual for our weekly dinner and dragged me along to grab the goods while he provides the distraction.

We reach the door which is strung open so the staff can move in and out of with ease. At my side, a satchel which I’ve covered with a cloak. I stay to the side as Castor goes in there. Entering myself, I keep to the wall.

The kitchens are dark, being in the lower part of the castle but a huge fireplace with a stone oven sits above it. Silver carts lie in one corner, a few missing, already taken. A long, dark wooden table fills most of the space of the room, storage cellars off to the back.

Along the table is a mix of food, the usual stew and meat but also sweet rolls, cheese and other assortments. I stare at them greedily, not having tasted them since our last feast. I peer at my companion who is chatting with the head chef, an older lady but a lady none-the-less as she blushes, swatting her hand at Carter who smiles cheekily at her. He side-eyes me, winking.

Making sure nobody I looking I open my satchel and glide along the side of the table, popping in a few of every treat in. I go around the whole table, unseen, ending behind the chef.

“Sir Castor. I think we must go now,” I say, plastering a fake smile at the chef.

“My duties call,” Castor announces, giving a dramatic bow as I keep the smile, walking out. Castor glares at me once we are in the clear.

“I thought you said that the chef was cute, she is like double my age,” he grunts.

“No,” I recall, “I said the chef was a woman and I’m pretty sure you just blocked me out, imagining a young damsel when I said she wasn’t your usual type. Besides. “I open my satchel top showing him to goods. “I got what we came for.”

Castor grins, swinging an arm over my shoulder, pulling me to his side. “That’s my girl.”

“I invited Merlin tonight but he couldn’t come,” I bring up, hoping that they would be also keen to the idea of officially meeting the boy.

“Probably attending to our lovely prince still. Heard him ranting today about how slack he is.”

“That would be right,” I huff.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” Castor points out. I nod, smiling fondly.

“Yeah, he’s a fun person and I’ve been helping him out. I think he needs the company.”

“That’s good,” Castor says, surprisingly serious for once. “Are you interested in him?”

“Interested in him?”

“Yeah, you know. Like romance and stuff?” he wiggles his eyebrows, turning back to his joking self. “Want me to put in a good word for you?” I shove him, hard enough so he hops on one leg to regain balance. “No?”

“No,” I blush. “Besides, I’ve seen him gawk at Morgana and Gwen gawk at him. I want to see how that all goes down.”

“Good, because I know someone interested in you,” he says like it’s the smallest thing in the world. I look at him, mouth agape. “And I’m pretty sure he’s already a little jealous of your lack of presence this past month.”

“Who?” I gasp, then cringe. “Is it that guard that we always catch staring my way. Because I don’t think he’s really my type.” Castor cringes too, shaking his head.

“If you court him I think I would just stop being friends with you. He came up to me and asked what flowers you liked.”

“What did you tell him?” I ask, curious.

“That you like women,” he states. I laugh out loud, throwing my head back.

“Well the women of Camelot are very tempting and that probably is an easy way to get him to back down… wait a minute – that’s why he was looking at me weirdly yesterday!” I exclaim, still laughing.

We saunter into our chamber’s hallway into Torj’s room. Inside, Torj and Leon sit at the table with four plates of food, silver cups prepared.

“Finally, had to stop Torj from eating without you two. Any particular reason why you’re late?” Leon natters, pouring his drink of mead the other two managed to grab. Torj acts offended but shrugs in agreement, digging into his food now.

“Well, we went to the kitchens,” I brag, holding up my satchel. “And brought desert.” I tip my bag upside down on the table, the sweets rolling out. The two boys look on in surprise at the amount, Castor and I high-fiving.

“I’m going to need a new belt,” Torj mutters, grabbing a handful.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

“Here you are, your Highness. I’ve mended these two but the other couldn’t be saved so I made you a new one instead.” I hand over the shirts I’ve neatly folded over to the prince who chucks them on his table. I sigh, seeing the folds come undone.

“Thank you. Have you seen Merlin? He was supposed to come around an hour ago.” Arthur struts over to the window, peering down. I shake my head honestly.

“No Sire, I haven’t seen him all day.” And I haven’t. “I believe Gaius called for assistance on something. Needed to move a body from the lower town.”

“A body? Like a dead one?” Arthur speculates. I bite my tongue to hold back a reply that would end with me in the stocks.

“Yes. Down in the lower town, they don’t know what caused it but I would assume a disease,” I reply instead. “I was off to find them anyways so I’ll let Merlin know you’re looking for him.”

“Tell the idiot that he needs to bring a bucket and mop,” Arthur nags, rolling his eyes.

“You know, the boy may be an idiot sometimes even I won’t argue against that but he’s a loyal one and that’s something you should consider when you judge him,” I drawl, giving the prince a knowing look. Arthur stares back at me in wonder. I could see, from their interactions that they enjoyed each other’s company even if they would never admit it out loud, let alone to one another. But sometimes Arthur needs a reminder that Merlin is more than just a servant.

“I know,” Arthur murmurs. “He has saved my life before, I don’t forget that. And yours as well.”

“Twice,” I mutter under my breath.

“But he’s my servant and right now I have a list of jobs for him.” I chuckle, bowing my head. “So either he gets his scrawny butt here himself or I drag him by the ear.”

“Alright, I will go fetch him.”

I wander around, asking the castle staff if they had seen Gaius. They tell me he had come back from the lower town and is now in his chambers so that is where I head to. They also told me they had something large in a wheelbarrow, which is odd considering they went to see a body.

I open the door, slowly, not quite sure if I want to look into Gaius’ quarters. Merlin and Gaius are lifting a body from the wheelbarrow onto the examination table. I stride over to look at the man myself. My mouth opens, eyes scanning the body in a mix of horror and disgust. The man is a pale grey, with blue veins bright underneath the skin. Merlin and Gaius barely acknowledge my presence, also staring at the man.

“That’s horrid. What caused this?” I query, never having seen anything like it.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Gaius announces, examining the body with a magnifying glass close to his face.

My eyes dart to the man who looks at the body with worry. If the court physician, a man who dedicated his life to this knowledge doesn’t know what it is, and I’ve never even heard of it in modern medicine then what hope do we have to cure this. No, Gaius would study it and figure it out. He has to.

“Do you think it could be some kind of plague?” Merlin questions, peering at the body with disgust and curiosity. 

“No.” Gaius shakes his head, looking solemn. “I fear that something like this could never come from nature. But who has this kind of power?”

Is he talking about magic? But why would someone do this, kill an innocent man? Maybe it was an act of revenge and he would be the only one. Or Uther has more enemies than we thought.

“Merlin!” Arthur fumes, opening the door to the chambers, but Merlin runs over, stopping him from coming in all the way.

“Oh, Merlin – Arthur wants you by the way. He said to bring a mop and bucket,” I chirp. Both men look at me with flat faces. “What, I told him, I did my job,” I shrug, looking back to the body.

“Erm… I’m on my way. Sorry I’m late.”

“Don’t worry. I’m getting used to it. But you Elena, you’re usually on top of things.”

“Excuse me,” I scoff, “I’m a seamstress and since I see no holes in your pants then I’ve done my job.” Arthur glares at me but doesn’t say anything against my attitude to him. I smile, knowing I got away with sassing the Prince. Castor’s personality is rubbing off on me. I think Leon would smack me if I said that in front of him, not wanting me to end up in the stocks. But I have slowly become more open-mouthed with the prince, testing my limits and Arthur either doesn’t argue or banters back with me, a lot like his relationship with Merlin only I couldn’t be punished with his chores, and there are only so many shirt and pants the prince can wear.

“Oh, er…Gwen gave it to me,” Merlin spits out. I notice the purple flower in his scarf that Arthur is also staring at, shaking his head.

“Tell Gaius my father wants to see him now.”

“Ok.”

“Gaius-“

“I heard.”

“Wait, why couldn’t he just tell you himself?”

“Duh, because you’re the servant. What would be the point of having you if he can’t delegate useless tasks?” I remark listlessly.

“But I’m not just a servant I’m a –“

“Powerful warlock who could set fire to the whole castle in less than an hour. Oh, we know, but if he did, you would be a dead warlock with extreme power.”

“Exactly,” Gaius agrees, Merlin, glaring at the both of us. “Right, get this covered up.”

“Hey, I’m not your servant.”

“No, you’re my dogsbody. Come on, hurry up.” Merlin looks over to me expectantly.

“Hey, I’m nobody’s dogsbody. Or a servant.”

“Whatever.” 

Not wanting to stick around with that body any longer I leave Gaius to it, walking into town to wander before coming back to my room. I hold my arms to myself, feeling warmth leave me even though it is still in the warmer months. I blame the image on the man, stuck in my head. He just looked so cold, pale. Blue. Like all the warmth had left his body before he died. Would I be more susceptible to it because of my time difference or would it grant me some type of evolutionary immunity? But it is caused by magic so it doesn’t work the same way as a normal disease.

I pass into my chamber’s hallways, but an unexpected sight makes me stop in my tracks. The door to my room is open and shadows of people are visible. I run to my door, stopping in the archway. Inside my room are three knights, including Leon plus Arthur. They rummage around my things, throwing around my sewing tools and checking under my bed.

“What is going on!” I cry, dread filling me. Two strange men are looking through my things and two men I trust along with them. Arthur and Leon turn to me, both looking pitiful.

“Elena, I’m sorry. But Gaius suspects sorcery and the King has ordered us to search every room and house in Camelot.” The explanation doesn’t make me any less upset but I understand the circumstances. I nod, biting my cheek as I watch the only place I could call mine and only mine, torn apart. Leon moves over to me.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“No it’s fine,” I shake my head. “I get it, it’s not like I’m being singled out or anything.” I give him a tight-lipped smile and he nods his head.

“Promise me you’ll stay away from the lower town,” Leon presses, a deep line mining its way onto his forehead.

“The lower town? Why?”

“Leon’s right,” Arthur inputs, leaving the other two guards to finish their search. “We’ve found at least two dead and they’re both from the lower town.”

“Just a precaution, we don’t know if it’s contagious or not and I don’t want you down there if it is.”

“But I need to help Gaius –“I object, knowing that if it is contagious then I was close enough to that body before to be infected anyway, may as well help now.

“Gaius will have Merlin. Just stay in the castle for now, until we can figure out how to stop it,” Arthur insists, placing a gloved hand on my shoulder, his eyes silently commanding me to listen to him. His words are an order, hidden behind as a friendly request. I glance over to Leon who bares the same faces. I swallow thickly, agreeing.

“Alright, but if Gaius asks for help I’m going to go straight away.”

Arthur smiles, pleased with the compromise. “Alright you lot, we’re done in here.” The two other guards and Arthur leave the room leaving Leon and myself. He steps closer, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Thank you,” he mutters, kissing my forehead. I close my eyes, bowing my head. Before I can respond, he leaves, following Arthur to the next room. I stare at the place he just stood, not sure quite what to feel. An unexpected knock at my door startles me from my head.

“Hey there,” Castor greets, letting himself in. “They ransacked my room too. Are you alright?”

I let out a shaky breath and lick my lips to get rid of the dryness. My mind tries to focus on just one thing from today but so many things fly through it. “Yeah, just a…confusing day is all.”

“Did you hear we have a curfew?”

“No.”

“Well, no one is allowed out after the Great Bell.”

“What are you doing here Castor?” I press, his mindless chatter not helping my head settle.

“What? I’m not good enough company?” I do nothing but look at him with an expectant eye. He gives in soon enough. “I passed Leon just before he said to come give you some company.”

“I don’t need company at the moment. I need sleep, I’m tired from today,” I snarl, not in the best mood anymore after seeing my room torn apart. “Besides, Leon shouldn’t assume what I need.” Castor blinks slowly, looking down at his hands.

“He cares about you. And so do I, so when you need something, we’ll be here for you.”

“Well that was surprisingly sentimental,” I chortle, leaning against my bedpost. I rub my eyes, feeling groggy and lethargic, and my stomach doing somersaults in my body. “Did we get some bad food this morning, whatever I ate is making me feel horrid,” I gurgle, placing a hand on my stomach hoping it would ease. Castor pushes himself from his lean against the wall.

“No, I feel fine.”

“Oh, I –I –I...”

I can’t finish my sentence, my sight going blurry, moving around uncoordinated. I try to blink it away, but every time I move my eyes, they feel heavier and soon I wouldn’t be able to lift them back up. Saliva feels hot and sticky in my throat as I try to push it back down.

“Elena,” Castor calls, cautiously stepping forward.

I try to answer again, but I can’t find the energy. My hand slips from its position against my bed, where I had my weight leaning against. Unable to regain balance and my legs feeling weak I slip to the floor. My sight is still blurry but darkness creeps around the edges as I make out the horizontal world, head against the floor. Just like the day I woke up and met Merlin but instead of waking up I am falling into a sleep I don’t know that I can wake up from.

“Elena!” I hear the man call one last time as I allow myself to drift off.

Third Person POV

“Elena? Elena!” Castor cries out as she faints on the floor. Light blue veins peeking through underneath her skin. He knows exactly what it means, seeing it on the man before that they bought to Gaius. He slaps her cheeks, urging her to wake up but it’s fruitless. Sliding his hands underneath her, he lifts her up and puts her on her bed, covering her with a loose quilt. He holds his hands up, assessing everything.

“Gaius,” he grunts, running out of Elena’s chambers towards the physician’s quarters. Feet pound onto the floor as though his own life on the line, his dark hair flying in his face.

As he passes into a hallway, Leon and Arthur are walking and discussing something. His feet slide back into a walk, hoping to pass them without raising suspicion knowing that they need to focus on their own tasks. Leon notices his friend walking past him.

“Castor, I thought you were with Elena,” Leon falters, squinting at Castor.

“Elena, yeah she was tired so I let her have a nap,” he hides. “Any news on the search?”

“Nothing,” Arthur confesses. “I’ve got to speak to my father. He’s not going to be happy.”

“Even more are showing up dead. Some even from the upper parts of town,” Leon adds.

The stress of the new disease is affecting everybody and soon people they know could be dropping dead in front of them. Leon notices the look in his friend’s eye, the look of being distracted.

“Where are you going off to?” Leon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Gaius,” he points in the direction he is going. “Just to see if he needs a hand.” Leon nods, letting it go. Arthur motions for Leon to follow as they walk away to their destination, leaving Castor to go back to jogging to the physician.

Banging on the door he lets himself in.

“Sir Castor,” Gaius calls his heart racing at the sudden appearance of the knight. In front of him, the examination table with a new corpse lying on it. Castor stares at the body, seeing the same blue veins that were on his friend.

“What is it?” a different voice asks. Castor eyeballs the young boy, a dark-haired, scrawny fellow who he recognises as Merlin. He hesitates, knowing that Elena is close to the boy and he would not take the news well just as Leon would not have. Torj, he also needs to find Torj.

“Gaius,” he begins. “How long do the victims have, from contracting till death?” he holds his breath as he awaits the answer.

“Twenty four hours at the most I’m afraid.”

Castor’s stomach drops not knowing what to do. Should he say anything – of course, he will have to tell Gaius but the others. Should they know or should he wait? He will have to tell Gwen and Morgana. The responsibility of the news bears on him like dead weight. Or soon to be dead weight.

“There’s something else,” Merlin speaks up, studying the knights who had been standing there silently. Merlin recognises the knight as one of Elena’s friends, the jokester she called him but right now, he looked like a man with the world on his shoulders and he knows how that feels. Castor nods, tears covering his eyes but he doesn’t let them fall.

“Elena,” he whispers. “She fell ill.”

Merlin steps back, biting his tongue and Gaius looks up from the body he is studying.

“Elena?” he rasps. The knight nods feverishly, biting his nails.

“I was with her in her room and she just fainted. She’s got those blue veins and everything. Can you do anything? Is-is there any progress on a cure?” he frets. Gaius shakes his head, sighing.

“I’m trying but it was made by magic and I don’t know how to undo it. Not without knowing the enchantment.”

Castor nods, both understanding and appreciating the physician’s work. “Thank you. I have to find Torj.”

The knight leaves the chambers, leaving the physician and the servant to look at each other. Merlin shakes his head, biting his cheek until he feels the familiar sting of drawn blood. He couldn’t just stand here, not while he had magic. Elena is his closest and first friend here in Camelot and he wouldn’t stand by to watch her die.

“Gaius,” he quavers but the physician stops him.

“I know Merlin, I do. But you can’t use magic. We have to hope that I can find a cure for this so we can help everybody.”

“But I could save her!” he cries out. “You don’t understand, besides you, she’s the only one I can be completely honest with. She knows me for truly who I am and she accepted that without a second thought. I need that – I need her.”

Gaius watches the young warlock, pitying in his face. He knows how important this girl is to him but he cannot just let this boy risk everything for her.

Torj walks out of the armoury, finishing his training for the day, the sweat pouring down off his back. He would be on guard duty this night, with Uther doubling the patrols, he knights assisting the regular guards. As he is walking back to the courtyard he sees Castor in the distance, pacing along the path frantically, head-turning every direction.

Oi!” he calls out. Castor spins around, facing his red-headed friend, striding over to him.

“Torj, its Elena,” he states, not bothering to beat around the bush. Torj frowns, not quite understanding what his friend is saying.

“What about Elena?”

“The sickness Torj. She’s got it.”

Torj stares at his friend, registering the information. His head tilts, upper lip squashing against his nose. “Elena?” he wipes over his mouth with a dirty hand, comprehending the situation. “Does Leon know?”

Torj keeps himself together, thinking logically about it. The disease is a high priority and Gaius is working on it every minute.

“No, and I don’t think we should tell him,” Castor admits. Torj looks at the other knight in shock.

“Not tell him?” he protests, “You know that if we don’t tell him and she dies that he will never forgive us. He cares for her, more so than the both of us and you know that.”

“Exactly,” Castor disputes. “He’s just had a lot of responsibility thrown on him from this whole thing and if we tell him he’s not going to be able to concentrate.”

“The people are dying within a day, Castor. We tell him.” Torj’s words are final, his friend backing down in agreement.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Merlin sits with his head in his hands, watching Gaius. He has just come back from going to see Elena who was lying on her bed, as though in a deep sleep. He thinks about Gaius’s warning about using magic but after looking at his almost dead friend he would risk it, just having to wait until nightfall to study his book. His foot consistently thumps the floor, making Gaius’ face twitch.

“Would you stop that?” Gaius pesters, needing to concentrate. “Go get me some water from the town supply, I think it might be how the disease is spreading.”

Merlin takes the bucket handed to him and walks to the Lower Town well. As he fills it, Gwen races past him crying.

“Gwen? Gwen!” he calls out but the girl doesn’t hear him. Taking the bucket, he chases her back up to the castle all the way into Gaius’ quarters.

“Gwen?” Gaius exclaims, the frantic girl storming into the room.

“Gaius.” Gwen cries, not able to speak.

“You have the sickness?”

Gwen shakes her head, trying to spit out the words. “My father! Please, Gaius, he’s all I have.”

Gaius looks to the girl with pity, knowing that he can’t do anything for the girl’s father just like he can’t for the rest of the victims. “Gwen, I have no cure.”

“I’m begging you!”

“I wish there was something, anything, but so far the remedy is beyond what I can achieve.” He takes her hand, the only sort of comfort he can offer her. “I’m sorry, Gwen.” She takes her hand back, running back out of the room past Merlin who stands near the door.

Another person- is all Merlin can think. How many people that they know and care for will die before this is over. He won’t let Elena or Tom die. “There must be something we can do,” his voice betraying his emotions which have taken the lead in his thinking.

“My best,” Gaius avows, “Let’s hope this can provide some answers.”

“But that’ll be too late for both of them,” Merlin argues, desperate for the permission of his guardian.

“I fear you may be right.”

Leon walks out of his meeting with the King and Arthur as they discussed what they would do. He feels helpless, limited to tearing apart people’s homes and being on patrol while he passes by people dying in front of him. Arthur stops, a guard passing him information from Gaius. Leon waits, watching Arthur’s face drop. He nods, the guard walking onwards.

“What is it Sire?”

“Two women from the castle have fallen ill, one is already dead,” worries Arthur. Leon knows that this means anybody is vulnerable, not just the lower town.

“Do we know who?” he splutters.

“They didn’t say any names but one is a courtier and the other is a member of the servants.”

The information didn’t narrow anything down, both men silently thinking the same thing. It could be anybody, someone they know or complete strangers. But it has to be pushed from their minds, for the sake of their jobs.

“And Gaius?”

“No closer to a cure.”

Torj, enters the corridor the two knights stand-in, his walk purposeful towards them. Like everybody else at this time, Torj’s face is solemn and grave. Arthur and Leon watch as the man comes closer to them, knowing he is supposed to be going to his extra duties around this time.

“Torj,” Arthur greets. “You are supposed to be heading down to the lower town.” Torj nods in acknowledgement.

“I’ve swapped with Sir Castor, Sire.” His eyes flicker between the two men in front of him. “I had to deliver some news that he did not wish to pass on himself.” He breathes steadily for a moment. “One of the ill is Elena.”

A moment of silence passes through the groups. Arthur rubs his face, letting out a sigh spitting silent curses. He didn’t wish this upon anybody, let alone somebody he calls a friend no matter how smart-mouthed she may act sometimes. Leon, on the other hand, stands still. His face doesn’t betray any sense of emotion which throws the red-headed knight off.

“Where is she?” is all he asks.

“In her chambers. She was with Castor when it happened, maybe an hour or so ago,” Torj admits. Arthur clicks his tongue, not knowing what to say. Leon recalls how Castor had been when they passed him on his way to Gaius and he wishes he had interrogated him further. “He didn’t want to stay around, said he needed a distraction so I let him take my place.”

“I should go see her. See if there’s anything I can report,” Arthur says, knowing there is no information to gain that they don’t already have. But it was right to see Elena once more before she dies. Leon nods and they trudge to the girl's chambers.

Torj opens the door, seeing the girl for the first time himself. Elena lies on her bed, a quilt covering her. As Castor had told him, she looks as if she is sleeping. As they walk closer they see the blue veins becoming more visible underneath pale skin. Just like the dead bodies which she would soon be joining.

Arthur sucks on his lips, scanning the girl. Torj looks away, instead, staring out the small window where he can see a plethora of guards marching. Leon can’t look away from her face, the ghastly pale face. His legs slowly drag over to the side of the bed, falling down onto his knees. Just like he has many times before, he brushes a strand of hair away from her face. His hand drops. Not wanting to look anymore, his head drops onto the bed, forehead resting against the sheets.

Arthur looks at his friend, knowing the sight. “Take the rest of the day off,” he tells him, leaving the room. Torj steps over to his friend, patting his back as though it could comfort him. He also leaves the room, leaving the knight and the sleeping girl.

The sun has left the sky hours ago but Merlin lies awake in his bed, not daring to close his eyes. As Gaius snores, Merlin double checks his guardian before pulling out his magic book. For the past few hours, he had been studying and had found an enchantment for a poultice that would cure this sickness. First, he would go to Elena then down to Gwen’s house for her father.

The castle is empty, thanks to Uther’s commands of curfew. The only people up are the guards on patrol. Sneaking to Elena’s chambers is easy enough, with no guards around and everybody asleep. Slowly pushing open her door Merlin is greeted with the unexpected sight. Elena lies in her bed as before but at her small table, a knight sits with his head against it, under crossed arms.

He watches him silently, waiting to see if he would show any sign of being awake but the man doesn’t even twitch. Merlin tip-toes over to the bed, placing one of the poultices underneath her pillow.

“þu fornimst adl fram guman.”

The poultice shines gold, just like his eyes, seeping into Elena’s body. Merlin steps back, waiting to see what happens. The girl shifts for the first time, her eyes peeling open.

Elena’s POV

I blink slowly, opening my eyes. I didn’t expect I was going to get to open them again. My room is dark, the middle of the night, unlike when I fell asleep. Two oddities are in my room. One of the figures is of a person, sleeping at my desk with their head resting in their arms. The second is the familiar silhouette of the warlock.

“Merlin?” I croak in a hushed tone. Merlin walks forward, kneeling beside my bed, a giant grin on his face. “Did you do this?” My voice is careful not to wake the other sleeping figure.

“I had to,” Merlin swallows. “I couldn’t just let you die.”

“How?” Merlin reaches underneath my pillow, extracting a small beige pouch filled with something. It glows golden, obviously enchanted. “Merlin! You can’t do these things. You are going to get yourself killed,” I scold.

“Yeah, well, it was either me or you so I chose,” he counters.

“I have to get rid of it. Destroy it before it’s found,” I urge him. “I’m better now, no use keeping it.” Merlin looks at the other person in the room who has not stirred yet. He holds the poultice, whispering a spell, eyes glowing golden. The pouch catches on fire and he drops it to the floor. We watch as the thing shrivels and burns in the flames until it is a pile of ashes. I lean over the edge of the bed, brushing the pile away to look more like dust settlement.

“I have to go, Tom, Gwen’s father-“ Merlin beseeches. I let out an audible exhale, knowing I can’t stop him from doing it.

“Just please be careful.” Merlin nods, grabbing my hand and squeezing it, then leaving to go to the lower town. “He’s going to get himself killed. Then Gaius is going to kill me once he finds out I let him,” I groan to myself.

My eyes snap back to the other person in my room who I had yet to put a name too. I push the quilt off my legs and stand up. Creeping towards the figure, I see a mop of blonde curly hair.

“Leon?” I question to myself, now stepping closer. My guess is confirmed as I lean down by his head to see in the low light. “Leon,” I say, louder to wake the knight. My hand shakes his shoulder gently. The knight jumps, his body tensing before he realises where he is. His eyes peel open, searching the darkness to find my own.

“Elena?” he whisper, scratchy from the sleep. I nod with a smile to show him I feel better. Without any more words said, his arms fly around my stomach, clinging to my back, pulling me into him. My own arms find their way around his neck. His fingers dig into my skin but I let him, his breath shaky against my collarbone. “How?”

“I don’t know,” I lie, stroking his hair. He pulls me onto his lap so I sit sideways, my head now resting on his neck. We sit there in silence, just the sound of our breath filling the space. His scent comforts me, one I have known since the moment I came to Camelot and would remember until I die. “You should go to bed,” I tell him after a while.

“No, what if you get sick again?” he stresses, looking down at me as though his eyes are searching for any sign of the disease. I shake my head.

“I don’t think I will. Besides, you should be sleeping in a bed, Arthur needs you fully attentive.”

Leon exhales, watching me in doubt. Finally, he nods. His arms tighten around me, his stubble tickling my face before he lets go. I stand up, letting him move up from the chair. He grabs my face in his hand.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” I giggle lightly.

“Being alive.”

“Anything for you.” A twinkle lights his eye as he chortles.

He smiles, dropping his hands. Giving me one final look he saunters out of my room back to his own. I stand there, beaming at the door, biting my lip. I sigh, walking back to my own bed for some proper sleep.

Once I awaken, feeling fresher than normal, I spend the morning thinking of my tale that I have to create to give reason for my lack of death in the night. I would throw some possibilities but act like I had no idea of anything. I would leave both Merlin and Leon out of the story, for I knew that they could be accused of witchcraft if they were present in the room of one of two people to survive, assuming Tom is too.

“Elena?” Arthur calls as I walk out the door.

“My Lord,” I reply, giving a small head bow. He walks over to me, assessing my body.

“You were, sick.” His voice sounds utterly perplexed, not comprehending how I am standing right in front of him. “And it was definitely the same disease as the rest of them.”

“Indeed I was. But it seems overnight I have recovered to full health.” My voice remains smooth and calm. “Perhaps it is because of my lineage from another land. We may have some sort of immunity to it,” I throw out. I know neither he nor the King will buy it but it makes me seem confused about it just as they are.

“Was anybody with you last night?”

“Nobody. I awoke in the middle of the night alone.”

Arthur hums, deep I thought. “Do you mind if we search your chambers? Just to be sure no one came in.”

“Of course Sire, go right ahead.” I gesture to the door which is still open. Arthur and two guards that accompanied him enter my room and search through it, just as they did the day before. Even though there is nothing they could find, nerves bubble in my stomach. Arthur doesn’t join in on the search, instead, standing next to me and speaks softly into my ear.

“I’m glad you are alright.”

“Thank you,” I whisper back.

The guards turn to Arthur. “There is nothing here your highness,” one of them spoke. The Prince looks relieved, motioning for them to leave the room. He places a hand on my shoulder.

“My father isn’t going to think lightly about this. I know you are innocent – you were on your deathbed but he is certain sorcery is at work and it’s going to look bad if you are the only one who survives. Keep your head down,” he warns, letting go of my arm to walk out.

Arthur is right. I make a ‘who knew,’ face as I realise how wise his words actually were. The boy has more than one brain cell. I should find Merlin, make sure he hasn’t done anything more stupid to put is butt on the line again.

Striding out of my chambers I saunter around the castle. Before I even hear footsteps, a heavy force collides with my back, sending me forward but arms around my waist keep me from falling over.  
“Argh!” I shriek, the arms picking me up off the ground, spinning me around in a circle. My fear disappears as I hear the laugh of Castor behind me. Finally, I am dropped to the ground and released so I can face my friend.

“Why don’t I get this greeting every day? The other day you threw a pebble at me,” I taunt. Castor scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Well nearly die every day and I will,” he mocks. Another hand lands on my shoulder, belonging to Torj who grins from ear to ear.

“Good to see you lass.” He man-hugs men, his hand playfully pushing me away after. Leon walks up chortling at the greetings.

“As you can see, I wasn’t lying. She’s up and walking, snarky as ever,” Leon teases.

“Hey!” I cry, shoving him with my elbow in his side. “And yes, not dead yet. I just keep getting saved,” I shrug nonchalantly.

“Whatever is saving you ain’t saving your looks though,” Torj says, ruffling my hair. “You got some bad bedhead there.” I smack his arm away, smoothening my hair.

“I just brushed it,” I whine, raking my hand through it unsuccessfully. Leon rolls his eyes, his hand reaching out to smooth it for me. “Thanks. Have you guys seen Merlin by any chance?”

“I think I saw him up near Arthur’s chambers.”

I thank them and wave as I jog towards that end of the castle. I had to make sure Merlin wasn’t stupid. It doesn’t take me long to find him and Gaius, his medicine basket in his hands. Merlin looks pleased as I arrive but Gaius’ shock is written all over his face. Well, I can figure that he hasn’t told Gaius yet.

“Merlin. Did you destroy it? The other one,” I quaver. He tilts his head, confused. The realisation comes to his face and his mouth drops open. The look of horror on his face is all I need to know.

“We have to get it.”

“What is going on?!” Gaius snarls, looking on in horror. Before I can answer, Arthur and some guard pass into the Upper Corridor where we stand, dragging Gwen along the ground who is wailing out in despair.

“No, please. You’ve got to listen to me! Please, I haven’t done anything wrong! You have to listen to me, please. I am innocent, I swear. Let me go! I swear to you!”

My throat constricts at her voice making my eyes scrunch close.

“Merlin. Merlin, please help me,” she calls out for him. He goes out to reach for her but I hold his arm. “Why won’t you listen to me?”

All I want to do is rip them away from their grasp, my heart yearns for her but right now. I there is nothing I can do besides watch or end up in a cell myself which would help nobody. I don’t let go of Merlin who gives up on fighting my grip as she passes out of sight, Gaius leading us back to his chambers.

“What have you done?” he accuses.

“What?”

“I warned you! Oh, I understand. You thought you were doing good.” I stand back, hugging myself to let them argue, still hearing Gwen’s screams in my head.

“I couldn’t let her father die! I couldn’t let Elena die!” Thanks, Merlin.

“Didn’t you think it might look a bit suspicious, the curing of two people, both who Gwen knows?” Gaius points out.

“Well then, all I have to do is...I’ll cure everyone. No one will ever have to know it was magic,” Merlin resolves.

“It’s too late. They think Gwen’s a sorceress. They think she caused the disease,” Gaius argues.

“But she didn’t!” Both desperate for the other to understand, their voices raising a headache but it seems like the least of worries.

“Oh, and how are you going to prove that?”


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 21

I look between the door Merlin just stormed out of and Gaius whose face matches my own. My shoulders drop. Giving a final glance at Gaius, I race out the door after him. I down both ends of the corridor, not seeing him either way. Where would he go?

I turn to the right and jog down, determined to find him, the skirt of my dress tucked in my fists. I reach the end of the new corridor, another choice of left or right. I turn left, leading me back into the outdoor area. I stride out onto the courtyard but only guards, some knights and a handful or servants are out. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I turn and walk back into the castle.

It seems as though I walk through every corner of the castle soon enough. Just as I am about to give up, I pass into a corridor which has large archways, open-aired with railings going up halfway. The wide floor is always lit in the day, the sun not struggling to find its way in here. One lonely figure leans up against one of these railings, halfway across the hall.

My head tilts, watching the boy for a moment. His hands out before him, gripping the stone and his head falling between his shoulders. Too much weight on him, pulling him into despair. All he tries to do is the best he can but the world constantly suppresses him. Not that it is Gaius’ fault, he wanted the boy alive even if it means hiding him.

My feet lift themselves, pulling me towards him and next thing I know, I stand beside him. His eyes flicker to me but go back to staring outside.

“I know you don’t hear this enough, from anybody.” I place my hand on his arm. “But thank you. I wouldn’t be alive without you; neither would Arthur, or Tom, possibly even Gaius.”

“I thought I was doing a good thing and that curing Gwen’s father would help her. I thought I was saving lives. It seemed so simple.”

“And you did save lives, but every action has consequences and we have to learn to live with them or learn to choose work past them. But just know, whatever you do, as long as you are doing it to try and help, I will always appreciate it. I will always support you even if I disagree with you. But you have to be careful because I cannot save you from the grave.” My voice stays even, squeezing his arm. Merlin smiles, finally turning to look at me with those puppy dog eyes.

“I know. And I need to save Gwen.”

“You sure do,” I assure. “I’ll come.”

I move to leave but Merlin’s arms wrap around my neck, trapping me. I laugh, wrapping my own around his torso. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Gwen sits on the ground, tied in chains at her hand, her eyes red a puffy.

“Gwen,” Merlin hollers. The handmaid pushes herself off the floor and walks towards us but the chain doesn’t let her reach the cell wall between us.

“Thank you,” she sobs, even though she tries to hide it.

“What for?”

“Coming to see me.” 

“Gwen, we will get you out of here. That’s a promise and I never forgot my promises,” I swear to her, smiling for her benefit. Gwen lets out a strangled chortle.

“You promised me a month ago that you would try that soup I make,” she sniffles. I purse my lips, raising a finger.

“I haven’t forgotten,” I splutter. ”It just left my mind for a while but it's back and I need you alive to make it.”

“Can you promise me one more thing? Both of you,” she whimpers, hugging her arms to herself. “Remember me.”

I shake my head at her submission to her determined fate. I cannot submit to it as she has, refusing in my mind to accept the possible idea of her death.

“You’re not going to die. We’re not going to let this happen,” Merlin declares. I give a last look to Gwen, sure that she sees my face and the determination I’ve set on it then follow Merlin out, knowing he has a plan.

“Where are we going?” I question as he paces frantically, as I trail behind him.

“To see the King,” he choruses. I pause in step, eyeballing him as he continues to move forward. I mouth ‘what’, behind his back but shake my doubt, as I just told him less than twenty minutes ago that I would trust him.

“Beginning to take back my words,” I grumble under my breath.

After minutes of half walking half jogging around the castle until we reach the area where public rooms are like where our banquets are held. And more importantly, where Uther holds his council meetings.

“Merlin,” I shriek, the word getting louder as I finish it. He cannot be thinking of storming into a council meeting. What would he say? Without letting me think through the possibilities, the warlock pushes open the large entrance doors. My head feels light, as though living in a dream.

“It was me! It was me who used magic to cure Gwen’s father!” Merlin cries out to the council. I stand at the door, not stepping into the room, unlike the warlock who strides straight it. A long table in the middle of the room has a group of men both in regular clothing and a few older knights. Arthur stands, bent over a chair and the King stands at the end of the table, acting as the head. Gaius sits near the end closest to the door. Everybody in the room stares at him.

Gaius stands up. “Merlin! Are you mad?” he exclaims.

“I cannot let her die for me.” He turns to the king. “I place myself at your mercy.”

“Merlin,” I warn lowly.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“I do,” he retorts.

“Then arrest him,” Uther commands.

I stand there stuck in the middle, not sure whether to speak in Merlin’s defence with Gaius which would be breaking my promise to him earlier and helping Gwen stay in her cell or agree with Merlin and sentence him to his own death. Gwen versus Merlin.

“Father, please! I can't allow this! This is madness! There's no way Merlin is a sorcerer,” Arthur disputes. For once I am glad that he is blind to reality some times.

“Did you not hear him?”

“Yes.”

“He admitted it.”

“He saved my life, remember.”

“Why should he fabricate such a story?”

“As Gaius said,” the Prince looks at Merlin, as though he is internally cringing, “He’s got a grave mental disease.” Yes, Arthur, it’s called stupidity.

“Really?” The King questions, looking at the Servant with uncertainty.

“He’s in love,” Arthur declares to push his case forward, walking up beside his servant.

“What?” said boy protests.

“With Gwen!” I say, speaking up for the first time as I catch onto Arthur’s plan. Both Arthur and Merlin look at me but both have very different facial expressions at my input. My shoulders give a little shrug. 

“No way,” Merlin interjects. Arthur’s arm swings around Merlin, silently convincing him to agree with the Prince but he doesn’t let up.

“I saw you yesterday with that flower she’d given you.”

“I’m not in love with her.”

“It’s alright. You can admit it.” Arthur seems cocky now, taking advantage of Merlin’s vulnerability since he knows that he has the King convinced.

“I don’t even think of her like that!”

“Perhaps she cast a spell on you,” Uther wonders. Arthur looks to his father, worriedly but the council members chortle, snickering amongst themselves and the Prince’s face relaxes.

“Merlin is a wonder, but the wonder is that he’s such an idiot. There’s no way he’s a sorcerer.”

“Don’t waste my time again. Let him go,” Uther commands, waving his hand in dismissal. Gaius, Merlin and I leave the council, the door vibrating as it shuts. Merlin turns to me, his ears steaming.

“Why did you agree with Arthur?” he spits. I step back in shock.

“I’m sorry?”

“If you hadn’t spoken up I could’ve convinced them it was me,” he chastises. “You told me that you would help me.”

“I also said that I wouldn’t if it would end up with you dead. I want to save Gwen just as much as you do but I will not let you trade your lives for one another. There’s no gain in that for anybody,” I growl. “But let’s look on the bright side, you got to tell Arthur you were a sorcerer,” I end with a more sarcastic tone. Merlin scoffs.

“He thinks he is so sharp, he couldn’t even see it when I told him to his face.”

“Sorcerers are pretty hard to spot,” Gaius inputs.

“Maybe I should go around wearing a pointy hat.”

“I don’t think you’ll find one big enough,” says Gaius the same time I say, “please do.”

“If we’re going to save Gwen, we have to find out what’s contaminating the water.”

“I’ll let you guys go do that, I don’t really fancy going down into the caverns,” I say. “I’ll keep Gwen Company for a while, she probably needs it.”

“And then Merlin just stormed into the council and proclaimed he was the sorcerer,” I giggle, sitting down against the cell door. “You should have seen Uther’s face – I mean, a servant barging in unannounced to a council meeting.”

“That must have been quite the sight,” Gwen laughs.

“Arthur ended up claiming that he has a mental alignment which I don’t disagree with, that boy is his own level of stupid but Uther believed him. They’re checking the water now.” I look at the girl, who sits, leaning against the wall as close as she can get to the door. “They are going to get you out, they just have to find whatever really did cause this disease.” Gwen nods, going to say something but hesitates. “What is it?”

“Merlin said that you also got sick, but just like my father you got better. Was there a poultice found under your pillow as well?”

I shake my head, looking at my hands. “No. I think they would have thought you saved both of us. Our friendship isn’t exactly a secret but I don’t know what they think. They don’t have any evidence to go on with my case.”

“Were you alone?”

I don’t answer, thinking about how Leon stayed in my room all night and how grateful I am that he left before the sun rose. He could have been in the same position as Gwen right now. But do I tell Gwen that?

“Yes,” I swallow. I couldn’t risk anybody knowing, even Gwen. I don’t think Merlin even knew who it was. “I better go check on how much progress they’ve made but I’ll come by and see you later.”

Once I leave the cells I head out to the front of the castle, intending on some fresh air after being down in the dungeon for longer than I would rather. Arthur and Morgana pass by me, walking with purpose towards the court.

“Hey!” I call out to them.

“Oh great,” Arthur mutters, loud enough for me to hear.

“Arthur!” Merlin calls from the middle of the court. The four of us meet up, Arthur drawing his sword.

“What are we doing?” I ask, looking between them all.

“There’s this creature, an Afanc. We destroy it, we end the disease,” Merlin informs me.

“Cool.” I rub my hands together. “I’m coming.”

“You have nothing to defend yourself with,” Arthur argues. I pull up my skirt leg to reveal the boots that I wear. Leaning down I pull out a dagger from beside my ankle. I always kept one there, thick socks protecting my feet from its edges. The two men look at me in surprise.

“What?” I shrug, “I use it to cut loose threads and stuff.” Morgana gives me a side smirk and I wink back at her.

Arthur opens the door to the tunnel leading to the water cavern. “You better be right about this, Merlin.” A low growling sound fills the air, vibrating off the walls. The Prince turns to Morgana and begins arguing, something about not coming along but I push the conversation out of my head. I scan the tunnel, dark and dreary just like I imagined. I wince, my mind seeing the wall shrink and breathing becomes harder without the open air. I close my eyes, taking deep breaths.

“You could too…if you don’t get out of my way,” Morgana sniggers, moving past the Prince.

“Arthur just doesn’t know anything about women does he?” I whisper to Merlin with humour.

“Does he really know anything about anything besides how to swing a sword?” the warlock mumbles back.

“Oi,” I smack his arm. He looks at me offended. “Don’t be mean. He knows how to use a lance as well,” I add, making us both snicker under our breaths.

“How are we going to find it?” Morgana calls out.

“I just hope we do before it finds us,” Merlin says, holding his torch up.

“Nice way to stay positive,” I tell him, giving a sarcastic smile. Arthur isn’t listening in on our conversation, focused on the shadows around us.

“Stop,” he demands, holding steady and silent.

“What?” I glance around, not seeing anything.

“It’s just a shadow,” he dismisses. “Spread out.” We move forward and I stick to the middle of the group as we reach the source of water for the town. We split ways, each taking a different tunnel. I follow Merlin down the right, admittedly grasping the sleeve of his jacket. Back where Arthur is, a growl rumbles through the tunnel and the sound of a sword-swinging can be heard. We turn, running back to where we split, Arthur standing with his sword ready.

“What is it? Are you alright?” Morgana asks him. Whatever Arthur saw wasn’t here.

“Yeah.”

“Did you see it?” Merlin queries.

“Yes.”

“What did it look like?”

“It…it’s quick.”

“Thanks. We didn’t know that” I remark. Arthur points his finger up at me threateningly. The Afanc saves me though as it appears in front of Morgana. Arthur turns to swing at it but it disappears again.

“Where is it?” Arthur cries.

“I think it’s gone this way,” Merlin informs us. I shouldn’t have come, I should have just stayed above ground and gone to my chambers. I gasp as I realise something. “What?” Merlin asks, looking around for the Afanc.

“I just realised its dinner night with my friends.” I wince, knowing I would have to tell them why.

“Seriously?” Merlin wonders, shaking his head.

The Afanc creeps around out of a corner for us to all see it in full view. It looks like it’s made of us, slimy and brown. Arthur swings at it but the creature swipes back, tossing Arthur’s sword to the side out of reach. Morgana’s torch is also knocked away.

“Arthur, use the torch!”

Doing as he’s told, Arthur holds the flame up high, defensively. The creature tries to move forward but it seems to fear fire and keeps its distance from it.

“Lyfte ic þe in balwen ac forhienan,” Merlin whispers from beside me. A gust of wind, too strong to be natural flows through the caves, blowing the flames onto the Afanc. The Afanc burns to the ground, dead.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say after a moment of silence. Everybody silently agrees, picking up the lost torch and sword. We exit the cavern, a fresh of cool air hitting me. My head falls back, relief flooding me to be out in the open. “So next week again guys?” I remark.

“If that thing shows up again I think we should just burn Camelot and start again,” Morgana replies, smirking at me.

“Good idea. I’ll let you guys sort out the aftermath.” I wave goodbye at them, jogging back up to my chamber’s hallways. I knock on Torj’s door, letting myself in.

Three men sit around a table that has three empty plates and a fourth which has been messed with as though they had taken some food from it. The knights look tired, the night coming to end an end for it. I cringe, having missed it all. Not even late, it is over.

“And where have you been?” Torj inquires, taking a long sip of his drink, leg resting on the only chair not used.

“I was helping Merlin and Arthur with something. Sorry, but in my defence, we shouldn’t have anybody getting sick anymore,” I offer, biting my cheek. “So you can’t be mad at me since you won’t have those extra shifts anymore.”

“You found what causing it?” Castor asks in disbelief, as he plays with a knife. I nod.

“Yep. I didn’t really do anything but it was called an…an… Afanc I think. Arthur killed it.”

“You are going to get yourself killed,” Torj points out in a disapproving tone.

“And with my current streak I’ll miraculously come back to life,” I retort, sitting down at my plate, kicking the redhead’s foot off. “And who got into my potatoes. They’re my favourite.”

“Sorry,” Leon says nonchalantly. I give him a side glare, stabbing my fork into the meat. “Merlin seems to always be getting into some type of trouble, dragging you along into it,” he says in an even tone.

“Merlin does seem to be a magnet for trouble and I just happen to be with him when it does appear,” I reply, biting into my food which is cold. “Gwen should be released too.”

“Good,” Castor says, “Everybody but Uther could see that she was innocent.”


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

“I miss Lancelot,” I say, walking through the town with Castor who offered to accompany me. “He was a good man.”

“He was,” agrees Castor, “But he wasn’t of noble blood.”

I look at the knight, not thinking he cared about such a thing. “Does it matter to you whether they are of noble blood?”

He shakes his head, “No, but it’s a part of the code and without the code then we wouldn’t be any different from the guards.” I gesture in understanding, picking out a dark blue cloth from a bunch at a stall. I wrap it around my head and mouth.

“Do I look mysterious?” I ask cheekily, wiggling my eyebrows. “Like I lure men to their deaths and they wouldn’t even know what’s coming?”

“You look like you’re sick and trying to hide it.” I huff, putting the cloth back down. “We’re going to the tavern tonight. Arthur was supposed to come but he’s off playing lovers with that Sofia girl.”

“And you’re only inviting me as a replacement? Rude but sure,” I acquiesce. “And I know, Merlin had to cover for Arthur had he was thrown in the stocks again.”

“Arthur has gone mad,” he agrees. “How are those nightmares of yours going?”

I look at him in shock, not realising he knows I still have them. I told him of them months ago but never bought them back up. “How’d you know I am still having them?”

“Well, for one thing, I can hear you since my room is closest and you don’t scream softly,” I look down in embarrassment. “I’m a light sleeper. And secondly, I know you open our doors and look in. You go to Merlin’s as well I assume since I don’t hear you come back for a while.” He pauses for a moment in thought. “What is it about Merlin that draws you to him so much?” he question is not an accusation, nor is he angry.

“I...I don’t know. From the moment I met him I just felt drawn, like, I need to follow him and help him,” I admit lowly. The knight sighs, squinting as he looks up into the sky.

“I know what you mean,” is all he says, still looking up. “It’s like your gut is just telling you to go to him. And invisible string,” he laments.

“Yes,” I say slowly. “That’s…exactly how it feels. How did you know?”

“Because I feel it too.” The childish features usually imprinted on his face are gone, replaced with that of a man. Aged lines on his forehead and crow’s feet by his eyes. His eyes aged with experience. It’s like I’m seeing this person for the first time. I tilt my head to the side, trying to understand why I’m seeing him like this or what changed in him. “I thought it was strange the first time I saw him but then I watch you, following him around like a lost child and I could tell that you felt it too.”

“But why?” I cry, “Why do we both feel this way?”

“I don’t know.”

Just like the first time I ever came to the Tavern, it feels merry and alive. Men shout, clinking their drinks together as a man in the corner playing the lute loud and rather unwell. Some men shouted in anger, losing a gambling game and the women who are not as common as men, sat down together, drinking.

“Can’t believe Arthur would miss this for love,” I greet, rolling my eyes as someone nearly gets punched for spilling a drink.

“It’s a pastime!” Torj cries out, throwing his drink into the air in celebration. I sit next to Leon at our usual table, not that we came here often but it still became our unspoken meeting area. The three knights are dressed in regular clothing, their shirts with the typical v-shaped neckline.

“I bet you ten gold coins he won’t even remember her in a month,” I declare to Torj. His brows perk up, always interest in gambling. He leans forward, eyes pinned on me.

“Let’s make this interesting. I bet he will forget about Sofia and marry Morgana.” The other two look between us, obviously interested. “Twenty gold coins.” His puts his hand out for a deal. Unlike everybody else, I have a slight advantage here. Although the Arthurian legend is not something I studied, common knowledge is that Arthur marries Guinevere. 

“Fine, then I bet Arthur will marry someone not of royal or noble blood. Thirty gold coins.” I hold out my own hand. All three look at me intently.

“You know Arthur has to marry someone of high blood?” Castor asks.

I shrug, still holding out my hand. “Then I guess this is an easy win,” I taunt. Torj smirks, placing his hand in mine.

“Deal lassie.” I can’t wait to wipe that look off his face. I’m just going to have to wait a few years to do it.

Pushing myself out from my seat I tell head over to the counter. “I’m going to go get a drink,” I tell them. Striding up to the barman I hand over three silver coins. “Mead please.” He takes the coins without a word, turning to fill up a tankard. I lean on the counter, looking back to the knights who are chatting away. I smile in content.

A man approaches the counter, leaning on it just as I am. His face is dirty, matching his dirty brown hair and peppered beard. He reeks of muck and oil, making me lean back in revolt. I turn back to the bar to ignore him but he steps closer to me.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a tavern?” he croaks, voice matching his appearance. I glance up at him then back to the bench.

“I’m not alone,” I tell him, voice smooth and confident.

“They always say that,” he chides, leaning closer. “They always lie.”

I turn to look at him directly, dead in the eye. “And maybe there’s a reason they tell you that,” I snarl. The barman places my tankard on the counter. I reach to take it, my fingers wrapping around the handle when his hand shoots out, his grimy fingers wrapping around my wrist. “Let go.”

“What did you say girlie?” he seethes. I try to pull my arm away but his grip tightens. I bite my lip to hold back my fear. I feel another presence behind me, their chest against my back. My body tense, thinking another of his buddies have come up behind me, a hand resting on my waist.

“I believe she said let go,” the voice of Leon says, making me exhale in relief. The man’s eyes look up at Leon, who is over a head taller and much more muscular. The grimy man lets go slowly, eyeing us both before sulking off into the crowd.

“Thanks,” I swallow, turning around. Leon looks down at me, eyebrow raised as if asking if I’m ok, I nod, giving him a tight smile. His hand that was on my waist sinks down, taking my left hand while my right still holds my drink. He leads me back to our table, the other two muttering to each other as I slid in after Leon.

“What a git,” Castor spits, turning his head to glare at the man. My hand is still tucked in Leon’s resting by my leg under the table. My stomach flutters and neither of us make a move to let go. I agree, taking a sip of my drink.

“Let’s enjoy the rest of our night,” I declare, pushing the memory from everybody’s mind which the readily agree to.

And we do enjoy our night, talking about Arthur’s latest near-death experience, also how he risked his life to save Merlin.

“He’ll drink it,” Uther commands, gesturing to Merlin. My breath catches in my throat as I stare at the warlock.

“But if it’s poisoned, he’ll die,” Arthur argues.

“Then we’ll know he’s telling the truth.”

“And what if he lives?” Bayard inquires.

“Then you have my apologies, and you can do with him as you will,” Uther offers.

“No!” I cry out, trying to pull Merlin back. “Let me drink it.” Merlin shakes me off him, dismissing me.

“Uther please, he’s just a boy. He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Gaius says as everybody ignores me.

“Then you should have schooled him better,” the King counters. I snatch the goblet from Merlin’s hands, not wanting anybody to drink it.

“Merlin, apologise. This is a mistake. I’ll drink it,” Arthur tiredly argues, trying to pull the goblet from my hands but I hold it close. “Elena, give it here.”

“No,” I sob. “I’m not letting either if you drink it. I will if I have to.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not letting you.” He reaches for the drink again but I hold it out away from his reach. Another hand reaches out, this time from Merlin who snatches the goblet right out of my hands. He toasts to Bayard and Arthur, drinking it before I even realise what has happened. I step forward, standing in front of him wanting to rip it away from his lips but the drink has already been swallowed and all I can do is pray that for once, Merlin’s words are not true.

“It’s fine,” he says, frowning at the cup. A hand goes to my mouth, covering it as I hold back tears in my stinging eyes.

“He’s all yours.”

Merlin’s face torts into a grimace, his hand going to his throat, the goblet dropping from his hand.

“Merlin?”

He chokes, eyes fluttering close. As he begins to fall my arms go under his in an attempt to hold him up but the dead weight is heavier than expected and I fall to a kneel, his head against my chest. I lie him down as Arthur and Gaius crouch down.

“It’s poisoned. Guards seize him.”

“Merlin. Can you hear me?” Gaius says, tapping the boy’s unresponsive cheek.

“Is he alive?” I ask, the tears I tried to hold back now on my face.

“Yes. We have to get him back to my chambers. Bring the goblet. I need to identify the poison.”

\--

I sit in the chair I pulled up next to Merlin. Arthur is supposed to be back but there has been no word of him. I bite my nail, a habit I never had until I had people nearly dying every day. Merlin’s face looks feverish, mumbling a foreign language. He was talking to Arthur; we told Gwen it was nonsense. My head rests in my hand that is leaning against the bed.

“Where is he?” Gwen worries, pacing. I don’t answer, watching Gaius inspect the warlock. I am at the point of accepting he is going to die and I’ve done nothing to prevent it. I could have gone with Arthur. I should have drunk the poison. I’m not even supposed to be alive in this time anyways.

The door opens, Torj coming in. The knight has grown fond of Merlin and Gaius. “I just saw Arthur being taken to the cells. He’s under arrest.”

“Under arrest?” I spit out, not believing the King would throw his own son in jail. “Did he have the flower?”

“I don’t know.”

My head falls to the bed, hiding my eyes under the cover of my arms. I try to hold my sob, but my chest heaves, unable to breathe.

“He hasn’t got much longer.”

If Arthur still has the flower then we need to get it. “I will go see him, I can sneak past the guards,” I say, standing up, wiping my face.

Torj shakes his head. “No, if you get caught you’ll be thrown in there with him.”

“He’s right,” Gwen says. “I’m a maid, I have a better chance.”

“How?”

“Even prisoners need to eat, especially the Prince,” she says, a new motivation pumping through her face.

“Elena here was cursing Merlin more than Arthur does all week long,” Torj teases, telling them of how I reacted when Merlin woke up. I giggle girlishly, leaning forward against the table. Leon’s hand lets go of my left which is still under the table. My smile falters but returns as the hand reaches over my lower back to my waist now that I’ve created a gap between myself and the bench. My cheeks burn but I cover them with my now free hands. I don’t dare turn to Leon but I feel his leg against mine. 

“He deserved it. The idiot drank poison willingly,” I defend, taking a sip of my nearly finished drink, as the knights laugh.

“Elena,” Castor says, leaning forward like he is preparing to give a proposition.

“Castor,” I say, mimicking his position.

“Take a ride with me tomorrow,” he says, more of a demand than a request.

“A ride?” I remark, curiosity peaking. Leon’s hand on my waist tightens but I ignore it as best I can. Which is not very well at all. “Where are we going?”

“Just into the forest. I want to show you something that I found.”

Castor is being unusually cryptic but I agree to meet him at first light tomorrow. The night comes to an end on a happy note and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

“Ugh!” I moan, throwing the sheets off my body. The sun hasn’t even come up yet and I grumble, moving to the door as I remember my promise to Castor. I swing the door open, glaring at the man who smiles at me. “I hate you. Like, I will hire a mercenary to take you out, hate you.”

His smile doesn’t change. “But then who would you gossip with,” he argues.

“I think you underestimate how much Gwen knows. And Merlin is the Prince’s servant, he hears a lot.”

“Please don’t hire a mercenary,” he begs.

“Only if this ride is worth it,” I say, stretching my arms. “I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

Clothed in my riding gear, we walk down to the main court, the stable boy holding two tacked up horses for us. Feeling sorry for him, I smile gently and make sure to thank him. We ride slowly out of Camelot, the colder mornings beginning to take hold as my breath is visible in front of me. I tug my cloak around me, riding with one hand. We don’t talk much as we ride, confirming that Castor had much more on his mind then wanting to show me something. I don’t push him to tell me, instead just riding beside him waiting for him to talk.

We push through some of the forest, in a direction I’ve never taken. It looks no different but we ride off the path so I take note of our surroundings in case we get lost.

“We’re nearly there,” he says, urging his horse into a trot. I do the same, matching his pace. The trees begin to clear up, the grass turning into a mix of sand and pebble. I see water, which becomes a lake once I get past all the trees. It isn’t an overly large lake, I can see all the edges of it but it is beautiful, ducks paddling through it and flowers growing near its edge.

“It’s so pretty,” I say, dismounting. Tying the horse to the tree, I walk to the edge of the water but I don’t dare get my clothes wet on such a cold morning. “But for some reason, I don’t think you woke me up just to show me a pretty lake,” I point out. Castor laughs, nodding and come to stand next to me.

“You’ve been in Camelot a while now, have you ever thought about leaving to go back home?” He asks, making me frown at the odd topic.

“Not for a long time, no,” I reply honestly.

“What do you miss the most?”

“Why are you asking about my home?” I counter, curious at his sudden interest in the topic.

“I wasn’t born in Camelot,” he says, staring out onto the water. “I was born quite a fair bit away from here actually.”

“Really? But you met Leon when you were so young.”

“I was thirteen.”

I breathe out slowly, trying to take in everything like he’s giving me a secret message I have to decipher. “Where did you come from?” I eventually ask.

Castor shrugs, folding his arms. “Don’t remember the name of the town. I miss it sometimes but I can’t go back. You never told me, what do you miss?”

“I miss my father,” I admit. “I don’t know what’s happened to him. If he’s dead or alive.”

“I miss my Gameboy,” Castor says, his tone even. I remember my Gameboy, I used to put stickers on it and then I got a PlayStation and I never touched my Gameboy again. I had almost fo-

“What?” I ask, my voice quiet. My eyes burn into Castor’s side but he doesn’t look at me. A chill runs through me to the core. My eyes blink, trying to make sure I don’t faint and my insides constrict as my breath is held in my throat. He gives a small huff that is almost a laugh.

“I loved Mario, but Luigi was my favourite,” he adds, one side of his mouth drawn up in a smirk. “I was ten when it happened. I was outside, playing my Gameboy when this wind started creating a small tornado and sucked my Gameboy right from my hands. I tried to run but it caught up to me and next thing I know, I’m waking up in this weird world where everybody wears funny clothing. Let me tell you, you handled it much better than I did,” he laughs, finally looking at me.

“But you’re a knight. They have to be of noble blood.”

“A noble family took me in and they were heading to Camelot at the time, and you know the story from there. They called me their own.”

“How did you know?” I ask the question that had been bothering me.

“Know that you had the same experience?” I nod. “Well, for one thing, I had to watch you check your wrist and go to grab your non-existent phone for at least two months before you dropped that habit. It’s been sixteen years and I may have liked my older technology but I will never forget having a phone.”

“I’d never have guessed you are like me,” I say. Never had anything he said or done hinted towards this.

“As I said, I’ve been living here for sixteen years. I’ve spent over half my life here.”

“Why?” I cry out, scrunching my eyes. “Why were we taken? I don’t get it. Have you told anyone about this?”

He shakes his head, “No, they’d probably think I was insane and take away my knighthood. What about you?”

“I’ve told…Merlin. And maybe Gaius knows but other than that just you.”

“You told Merlin before me, Elena, I’m offended,” he playfully jests, punching my shoulder. “But I understand, I told you about the feeling I get to him.”

“Maybe it has something to do with that? I mean, we both feel drawn to him; we were both taken from our homes. I’m not saying Merlin is to blame – I trust him with my life but it’s not a coincidence.”

“No. It’s not.” My time here in Camelot just gets more confusing by the day. “Oh, and my actual name is James.”

“James. Where did Castor come from then?”

“I was twelve,” he shrugs. “It sounded cool.”

My head falls into my hands, letting out a laugh from the bottom of my belly which is soon accompanied by Castor’s laugh. “Kinda wish I came up with a cool name now. Esmerelda or something,” I hum in thought.

“Princess Consuela,” he muses. I gasp, knowing exactly where that name came from.

“You watched Friends? Man, I miss it so much.” I cry, leaning against him dramatically. “And pizza.”

“Oh god, pizza. Like a good chain pizza with grease,” he moans, eyes closed and reminiscing. “I’m drooling. I haven’t had a good pizza since I was ten.”

“I know,” I exclaim, throwing my hands up. “I’ve had pizza from that tavern and it was terrible.”

“I remember that,” he laughs, “I was watching you, knowing you would think it’s terrible but you hid it well. I wish there was chocolate.”

“Don’t even get me started on chocolate! At least once a month I have sushi cravings.”

“Ew,” he gurgles, “Sushi was nasty. One benefit of living here though, I could drink from when I turned fourteen, didn’t have to wait till I was twenty-one.”

“You’re American?”

“Sure was, you?”

“Australian.”

Sitting on the sand we talk till the sun is high in the sky. I know I would be in trouble if someone needed me back at the castle and I wasn’t there but I couldn’t care less. For the first time since being here, I felt free to talk and not hold back. Sure, Merlin knew but he didn’t understand it and I couldn’t talk with him about it like I am with Castor. We found some differences, mostly due to our age difference when we left. He left in the year two thousand and twelves at ten, meaning he was born two years after me so I joked that technically he was younger than me even though he nearly has a decade on me here. The carefree feeling is intoxicating and I don’t want to let it go.

“I saw you and Leon last night,” he speculates.

I act indifferent. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh please!” he scoffs. “I saw everything. You may have been trying to be subtle but the boy sure wasn’t. He was letting everybody know.”

I hide my face behind my hair, biting my lip. “He was just trying to warn that other guy away.”

“He sure was. He basically told the whole tavern you were his. Glared at anybody looking your way,” he reiterated. I don’t reply, not wanting to humiliate myself further. “The first night after we saved you, he told me he thought you were gorgeous.”

“Really?” I ask, not believing a word. He nods, pursing his lips. “Why did he never say anything then?”

“He was going to. But then Merlin came out of nowhere and you spent most of your time with him and Leon assumed that you weren’t interested. I had to convince him otherwise which trust me – took a lot of work. The boy was jealousy ridden.”

I hadn’t even thought about Leon that way before last night, but I surprised myself, feeling a longing for it more. The emotions grew in me unconsciously. “How did you know that I like him? I didn’t even know myself till last night.”

“Seriously?” he huffs. “You may have hung around us a lot, trust me, we noticed that you never left us alone for the first year but there was Torj and me, and then there was Leon. You were by his side and listened to his every word.”

“Wow, was I really that bad?” I laugh, grimacing at the thought.

“Oh yeah. But he loved it. And watching it was hilarious.” He laughs, thinking for a moment. “Also, can you guys not kiss for another two months?” he says seriously.

“What?” I ask, perplexed.

“I have a bet with Torj going and he says you guys will within the next two months. I have twenty-five gold riding on it,” he pleads.

“Give me ten of them and I’ll make sure of it,” I offer, hand held out. He shakes it, grinning like a madman.

“Deal.”

I look up to the sun, letting out an unladylike groan. “I’m going to be thrown in the stocks if someone needed me, let’s get going.”

We mount back on our horses, letting them walk back at a leisurely pace, even if I should be in a rush. No point if I am going to be in trouble anyway. The forest is quite, the twitter of birds, wind and the horses’ hoof hitting the ground are the only sources of sound. That is until a voice calls out.

“Wai…wait! Careful.”

We halt our horses, glancing at each other as we recognise the voice.

“Don’t worry. I will be,” a feminine voice replies. Peeking through the trees, almost out of sight but enough to reveal themselves, Arthur and Sophia are frolicking in the woods.

“Isn’t there a knighting today that he’s supposed to be at?” I whisper to Castor who nods. We stay silent, listening in like high schoolers listening in for gossip.

“túce hwón frec 'úre, artur.”

“What are you doing?”

“Þec nom feoh gyse. Cume morðor rice ær. Túce hwón frec úre, Arthur.”

Even from our distance, we hear the words spoken and a red glow in both of their eyes. Sofia strokes the prince’s face, who stares at her longingly. Her hand falls to his arm, leading him back into the forest, towards Camelot.

“Oh my god,” I gape. “She-Arthur.”

“We have to tell the King,” Castor advises.

I shake my head, no we had to go about this smartly and letting them know we know isn’t the best idea. Especially when she has magic and we do not. But I know someone who does. “No, he’s enchanted. Arthur would vouch for her, we need solid proof.”

“I’m a knight, I saw it with my own eyes. What more proof does the King need?” Castor implores, his grip on the reigns tightening.

“We need to get Arthur out of his enchantment.” I look at him, pleading that he will listen to me. “Leave it to me, I have an idea.”

I dig my heels into the horse's side, urging him into a gallop, the sound of Castor’s not far behind as we charge head on back to Camelot, hoping that he would do as I say and let me handle it. He doesn’t speak up the whole way so I assume he has enough faith in me not to get the Prince killed.

As we come into the court, he speaks for the first time since we left the lake. “I noticed you mounted the horse by yourself today,” he mentions, nonchalant.

“I spent a whole night practising about a month ago,” I inform, a light blush colouring my cheeks. “I think the stable hand hates me for it. Kicked him in the face once or twice”

“Look at you,” he coos. “My little girl is growing up.”

“Technically I was born before you,” I brag, handing off the horse to a servant.

“Technically older since time is weird. Have you never watched Doctor Who?”

“Nope.”

“Blasphemy!”

I put my hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t tell the other two about what we heard. Promise me you’ll let me handle it.”

Castor hesitates but rolls his eyes and nods.

Racing away, I make my way down to Gaius’ chambers. I let myself in as the door is open and greet Gaius who is fiddling around with his things. “Morning Gaius, how’s your day been so far?”

“Elena, always a pleasure to see you. My morning has been fine but I fear Merlin’s may not be.”

“I was actually wondering if you know where he is.”

“I’m afraid not,” he replies looking exasperated at the constant trouble Merlin attracts.

“You look like you need a holiday,” I tease.

“A holiday?” he scoffs. “I need retirement.” I let out a bellow of laughter agreeing with him.

Sobering, I think about how I told Merlin I would trust Gaius with my secret and I wonder whether he has been told. “Gaius, has Merlin told you something about me?” I ask, trying to word it so it doesn’t sound weird but I’m not sure if I succeeded.

Gaius looks perplexed shaking his head. “No my dear, is there something I should know?”

I gesture to the table, “I’d recommend you take a seat. I’ve got a bit of a story.”

Gaius does as I say and I let my story spill for the third time. I figure that it would be useful for Gaius to know if I was to keep getting into trouble with Merlin, as I wouldn’t need to keep everything a secret. I tell him of where I came from, what happened and the legend. I leave out Castor as it is not my place to reveal the life-long secret that could potentially strip him of his knighthood if someone found out. It feels good to confide in somebody.

“Well, that is quite the life story. Have you tried to see what brought you here? Or go home, I could do some research but I’m afraid I’ve never heard of this before,” Gaius rambles. His quickness to offer his assistance warms my heart, glad to have befriended such a kind man over my time here. I take his hands in my own.

“Thank you, Gaius, but I have spent some time doing my own research and I’m past that stage now. I’m happy here in Camelot, I want to help Merlin. It sounds stupid but,” I hesitate. “I feel like that’s why I’m here. Like I’m supposed to be there when he’s in danger, standing beside him.”

“It doesn’t sound stupid. It sounds like you have a purpose, just like Merlin has his,” he tells me, his warm voice comforting me.

The door that I had closed before I started telling Gaius my story opens, a drained and dirty Merlin walking in, sitting beside me at the table. He is covered from the chest up in rotting food, the smell wafting through the room. I shift in my seat, putting more space between us.

“Again Merlin? You were in there yesterday,” I chide. Searching around for a cloth, finding one folded on a bench.

“You would think that the appeal of pelting the same person with fruit would wear off after a while, but, oh no,” Merlin jeers, flicking fruit off his cheek. I pull the rag out, a wipe his cheek to get the stain marks off. He gives me side look but I reply with a stern one, telling him to let me do this.

“It’s in your hair too,” I argue pointedly.

“I heard Arthur wasn’t at the knighting ceremony,” Gaius remarks, tone casual but even I can hear the underlying accusation. I huff, realising that the rag alone isn’t good enough. Grabbing a basin and a jug filled with water, I begin pouring it in.

“Yeah, he wanted to make the most of his time left with Sofia.”

“So you helped him?” Gaius asks, bemused.

“I’m his servant, I had to,” Merlin counters, proud of his work.

“I’m afraid Sofia is not all that she seems Merlin,” I say, wiping the cloth against his face. “Castor and I saw Arthur and Sofia in the woods today. She was using magic, on Arthur. He’s enchanted but I don’t know how. Maybe a love spell or something.”

“Morgana also saw Sofia, the night before she came to Camelot?”

“Wait, like she saw the future?” I ask, astounded. Gaius nods solemnly.

“I’ve been watching Morgana since she was very young. And though I tried to persuade myself otherwise, I realised that some of the things she said she'd dreamt came to pass. I kept it secret from Uther, of course. The gift of prophecy is too close to the work of magic.”

“You think Morgana is a seer?”

“I don’t think it. I fear it. Morgana said she dreamt that Sophia killed Arthur,” Gaius informs in a grave tone.

“Couldn’t that have just been a dream? Maybe the- the woman Morgana saw just looked like Sophia.”

“That’s what I hoped. But Aulfric caught me in Sophia’s room, an, in a flash of anger, his eyes changed colours.”

“Red, right?” Gaius nods. “I saw it too, in the forest.”

“Who are they?”

“It’s not who they are that worries me.”

“-It’s what they want with Arthur,” I finish, dumping the cloth in the bowl unceremoniously. “Why does everybody want to kill Arthur? Seriously? One day, I want this deadly looking man to come up to Arthur and hand him flowers and say ‘thanks for helping me,’ but no,” I rant, sitting back down and leaning on Merlin’s shoulder dramatically.

“But Arthur would have to do something to earn that thanks first,” Merlin retorts earning a snort from both Gaius and I. “We should follow them around.”


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

We stand behind a wall, near Arthur’s chambers where Sofia entered not long ago. Aulfric walks past us, meeting his daughter as she exits the Prince’s chambers.

“He’s ready. Tomorrow he’ll do what we need him to,” she slyly coos.

“Good, you have done well,” Aulfric coaxes, “I must go to the Elders.”

Aulfric walks away, as we wait for Sofia to go out of sight. We follow him out of Camelot on foot, which is not a pleasant experience since my cardio has not been maintained since birth. We follow him all the way to the Lake of Avalon where Aulfric walks to the edge. A gust of wind blows through the trees, making my hair fly in front of my face, my throat holding in a choke as some flies into my mouth, hitting the back of it. I let out a gurgling sound, Merlin looking at me in disgust.

“I seek an audience with the Sidhe elders. Do:tiag-sa ar idbarit do denam!”

I don’t have time to question what Sidhe elders are as a magical blue haze spreads over the lake. I don’t understand what I see, and glancing at Merlin I see that his eyes glow gold and his mouth is parted in a smile as he watches what is happening.

“I come before you to plead for the chance to win passage back to Avalon and a life of immortality,” he calls out to the mist. I don’t understand what is going on, he is talking to a mist.

“Your punishment for killing another Sidhe is a mortal body and a mortal life. You will never be able to return to Avalon,” the mist speaks with an ethereal flow. The mist is alive.

“The crime was mine, not my daughter’s,” Aulfric pleads.

“The gates of Avalon remain closed to your daughter. Unless the soul of a mortal prince be offered up to them,” the mist speaks again.

“Thank you. An immortal life for my daughter is all that I desire, so I promise you the soul of the greatest prince of all. Arthur Pendragon.”

The dots connect and the mist disperses back into nothingness, Aulfric disappearing back into the woods. Merlin and I stay hidden behind our tree until he is well out of sight.

“I’m mean,” I shrug, “At least he’s not killing Arthur for revenge. Something new this week, spicing things up,” I chime in, trying to make a joke and by the look on Merlin’s face, it is not well taken.

Back in Gaius’ chambers, Merlin tells him what he saw.

“Avalon. What you saw at the lake, it’s Avalon. It must be…”

“What’s?...”

“The land of eternal youth. Mortals are only supposed to glimpse at it the moment before death.

“Well I’ve seen it and I’m still here,” Merlin counters.

“Hang on,” I call, holding up a hand. “What did you see? Because I saw a blue mist talking and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t this Avalon place.”

“It was like, these fairies. They were so magical looking,” he reminisces.

“What?” I gasp, “You saw fairies and all I get to see was a blue cloud.” I slam my fist against the table. “That’s so unfair. But how are we going to stop them, we don’t even know who they are.”

“We do now.” Gaius sits at his desk, Merlin and I joining him and he a book with ancient writing in it. “I found writing like this on the top of Aulfric’s staff. It’s Ogham, an ancient script. Abas ocus bithe. Duthectad bithlane. ‘To hold life and death in your hands.’ from the writing on his staff and what you saw at the lake, I’m afraid I’m now certain. We’re dealing with the Sidhe.

“The things Merlin saw at the Lake” I query uncertainly, trying to keep up. “Because even the name sounds all-powerful.”

“They’re masters of enchantment,’ Gaius adds.

“Which would explain what I saw in the forest. And it would explain why Arthur is just so compliant,” I connect, “I mean, Sofia is pretty and all but she’s not his type.”

“What do you know about Arthur’s type?” Merlin challenges.

“His type is Gwen,” I intone.

“Gwen?”

“Yes, but this isn’t the most important topic right now.”

“Right. Sorry. So Morgana’s dream is coming true?”

“I’m afraid so,” Gaius admits.

Merlin and I leave Gaius to find Arthur, a guard informing us that he is headed the court to speak to the King. We arrive just after Arthur, Merlin entering just after him but I stay back, not welcome in this court with my standing unless invited or with an audience. I try to overhear, placing my ear against the wall as the guards are on the inside with the door closed.

Arthur declares his love for Sophia, requesting Uther’s permission to marry her. My gossip face is on full effect as I listen in. Out of nowhere, a new face appears right before me, leaning against the wall with their ear to it. I barely held in a shriek, my hands clenched in fists.

“What are we listening in on?” Castor whispers.

“Arthur is speaking to Uther about marrying Sophia,” I inform him in a hushed tone.

“I thought you said you would handle this,” he drawled, a judgmental face peering at me.

I return a shrew face of my own. “Yes, I’m in the middle of it,” I hiss. He mouths ‘okay’, holding his hands in defence.

“I’m going to marry her. I don’t care what either of you think about it,” Arthur’s voice declares, the power of the words coming even through the closed wooden door.

“But you only met two days ago,” Uther tries to reason but he would never be able to overcome the enchantment with simple words.

“We’re in love.”

“In love? We had no idea that you were such a romantic, had we, Morgana?”

“No,” she pauses. ‘He’s full of surprises.”

“I’m going to marry her. I don’t care what either of you think about it.”

“I thought you’d come to ask my permission?”

“Out of courtesy, nothing more.”

Castor and I share, an ‘oh damn’ look. “Is this what high school drama was like- because I missed out on it?”

“This is better,” I declare, still hushed. “This is soap drama stuff.”

“Arrest Sophia and Aulfric Tir-Mor.”

“What are you doing?”

“And inform the executioner his services will be required tomorrow morning.”

“Yes! I can. And unless you show me some respect, I will.” The king’s words are final, those of a true king. Arthur must do as Uther requests as his next words are even and calculated. “Release them. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Sophia is no doubt your first love, but she certainly won’t be the only one. Enjoy yourself while you can.”

Arthur storms out of the council, Castor and I narrowly miss getting hit with the door, Merlin walking back over to me rather than following the Prince.

“You know,” I sigh, “Our problem was solved for a half a minute there. But no. Arthur just had to listen to his father.” Merlin glances to Castor, unsure about his presence. The two have met before on a few occasions and are an acquaintance. “Castor is fine. He saw Arthur get enchanted, we can trust him. He won’t say anything,” I look to the knight, reaching up and pulling his ear. “Will you?” I dare.

He twists around, “Ow –no! I won’t. Damn woman,” he cries, rubbing his ear as I let go. “I’m guessing you both are dealing with it. I’ll let you be. Leon suspects something fishy is going on but he doesn’t have any evidence and I’m sure the both of you don’t have anything so just make sure you lay low. I can cover you if you need.”

“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely.

“Why?” Merlin asks, squinting.

“Because Elena is my friend and you are too Merlin. I trust you both.” Merlin nods giving the knight a genuine smile.

Night has fallen and Merlin is determined to make Arthur see reason.

“I’ll come. I need to grab any clothes that need mending anyways.”

As we arrive in Arthur’s chambers, he is packing a bag, as though preparing for travel. He is still in his chainmail which is odd for this hour of the day.

“Both of you, get out,” he warns. I halt in my step but Merlin continues in, not fazed by the Prince’s order.

“I thought the King was a bit harsh.” Where are you going with this Merlin?

“I don’t need sympathy, Merlin, especially not from you.”

“Good, because we’re not here to give it to you,” I say, picking up a pile of clothes he leaves for me to take.

“Seriously, Elena? I’m not going to be lectured by my servant and a seamstress!”

“The King had a point,” Merlin pushes. If Arthur was angry before, he is furious now, the veins in his neck protruding and his eyes bore into Merlin’s and my own.

“I ordered you to get out. Now leave me,” he demands.

“No, Arthur. You have to listen to us. You think you’re in love with Sophia but you’re not. It’s fake, all of it. You need to push it aside and think about this logically,” I urge him, striding closer so I’m in his face.

“Who are you to tell me what I’m thinking?”

“We’re you, friends.”

“And you have every reason to trust us. When have we lied to you?” I implore, my hands desperate to shake him into sense. Arthur scoffs, turning away from us. Sophia and Aulfric storm into the room. “They cast a spell on you.”

“I told you people would try to keep us apart,” Sophia chides, glaring at the both of us.

“Cut the act sweetheart,” I snap, over her façade. “We already know everything.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Arthur assures, blind and deaf to my words.

“We can elope together,” Sophia hums melodically.

“To hell, you will!” I shriek.

“We followed him, Arthur. They want to sacrifice you in exchange for immortality.”

“No-“Arthur bellows, “We’re in love. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Because of the spell. Arthur. They’re magical, just look at his staff!” I leap towards Aulfric to grab the staff but my words to Arthur warn him and he lunges out of the way, eyes glowing red just as Sophia’s had in the forest. “See Arthur!”

Aulfric points his staff at me, muttering a spell. My legs lift off the ground but I feel weightless, my hair floats around my face like I’m underwater but I can’t move, trapped in the spell.

“Elena!”

“I see everything,” Arthur mumbles, but his eyes are red. We’ve lost him. Merlin lunges for the staff just as I did but he spits out another spell towards my warlock friend.

“Na mben sis!”

Merlin is thrown against the back wall, his head hitting the stone and he falls to the ground unconscious. My throat cries out for him but the voice never reaches my mouth, my muscles not obeying me. I watch helplessly as they walk out of the room, Arthur willingly obeying them without hesitation. I eye Merlin, hoping he would wake or that I could call out to him but the only control I possess is with my eyes.

Not long after, Merlin begins to stir, sitting up. Gaius enters the chambers at the same time.

“What happened?” he shrieks, head-turning between both of us. He goes over to Merlin first, assessing his head. Merlin stands up, stumbling.

“I have to get to Arthur, Aulfric he-, what’s that buzzing sound?” he says, scratching his head.

“Careful, Merlin, you can barely stand up,” Gaius warns. Merlin glance at me, as I still float helpless and silent. Blinking his eyes slowly as if trying to regain sight he points his hand at me, muttering a spell which releases me from my prison. I collapse to the floor but push myself up.

“Merlin!” I cry, running over to see his head which is covered in blood. “Are you ok?” I grasp his neck, on my tippy toes to look at it.

He doesn’t move away but smiles at me, “I’m fine. But we have to go.”

“Of course.”

“You can’t, not in this state. You owe it to your powers that you survived this at all.”

“I’m fine. He needs me.”

“Has the buzzing stopped?”

“Yeah.”

“Liar.”

I step in, gripping Merlin’s hand. “I’ll take care of him, Gaius. We have to go otherwise Arthur will die. I’ll make sure both of them return. Alive.”

“The Sidhe are vicious people. You must both be careful,” he warns.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” Merlin assures, walking away from my grasp towards the window. I watch him, not sure what he is doing.

“Merlin?” Gaius calls, pointing at the door. “This way.”

“Just testing,” he replies, grabbing my arm as he passes back by as we go out to follow the Sidhe.

We run through the forest, my throat wheezing in the night air but I hold in the grunts as Merlin runs beside me. We near the lake, jumping over fallen branches, my dress hiked up to my knees. Merlin trips and I skid along the dirt. Jogging back to pick him up by the elbows.

Finally, the lake is visible, Sophia and Arthur walking in and Aulfric on the shore, speaking words in an unknown language.

“Onbregdan,” he chants, the staff flying into his hands. “Swilte, gold berþ.”

Lightning from the staff erupts, aimed at Aulfric who realises what is happening too late. The man explodes on the spot.

“Father! No! No” Sophia cries, paddling back through the water to where her father used to stand. Merlin points the staff at her as well, and she explodes the same way. I watch, intrigued how someone could explode in such a fashion but the thought passes my mind as I realise Arthur is nowhere to be seen.

“Arthur! Arthur!” Merlin cries out, running to the shore. Grabbing his arm, I stop him in his place.

“No Merlin. I’m a strong swimmer and you’ve hit you head.” I remove my boots as fast as I humanly can. “I’ll do this.”

Fully clothed, I wade into the water, diving as soon as the depth allows me. Bubbles float to the surface and I dive down into the dark water, blindly reaching out for the Prince. I go deeper and deeper as my throat constricts and my ears begin to hurt but I don’t waste precious time trying to equalise them. A glint of shimmer catches my eye just as I am about to swim back up. The shimmer turns into armour and Arthur becomes fully visible just meters below me. My lungs scream at me but I ignore it, pushing down even further. My hand finally locks in with his and I spin around, aiming for the surface and using all my remaining energy on dragging his body up with me.

The surface comes nearer and nearer, but it seems still so far away. As I am thinking that I would not make it, I break through the surface, gasping in the fresh air. I pull Arthur’s head above the surface but he remains unconscious. Merlin had waded into the water as well and I back paddle to meet him. Merlin takes Arthur from me as I still catch my breath, lying down on the shore, the waves kicking against my feet.

“He… he needs to lose some weight,” I grumble out, spitting out water. Wet hair sticks to my forehead, a feeling I loathe but my wet and soggy clothes make me feel even worse. “Let’s get him back.”

With an arm over each of us, we haul Arthur back to Camelot. The lack of sun means that my clothes don’t dry and neither does Arthur’s which only adds to his weight. I shiver, goosebumps in places I didn’t know they could exist. My teeth chatter together which surely annoyed Merlin but we don’t exactly have the luxury of building a fire or a change of clothes. I could swear my lips are turning blue and my hair is a frizzy mess but it doesn’t matter since Arthur is still very much alive.

Merlin and I drop in the courtyard, just stopping Arthur’s head hitting the ground. Leon, the only knight out at this hour rushes over, wrapping a red cloak around me.

“Oh, hey Leon,” I mutter, eyes. “Arthurs alright, but sleeping.”

“Elena, what on earth we’re you doing? You’re freezing. And wet,” he prattles.

“Yeah,” I look up at him with a sarcastic smile. “I know. My highlight of the week. Just saving Arthur once again.”

“What happened to him?”

“He uh…” what’s a reasonable story. “Was trying to elope with Sophia but we knocked him out and brought him back.”

“You – you knocked out the Prince?” he asks, bewildered.

“Well, Merlin did if you’re going to blame anybody but it was my idea. We should follow him actually.”

Leon helps me up and Merlin and I follow him as he carries Arthur to Gaius’ chamber, who is waiting and prepared for us. Leon stays here, as one of the King’s trusted, he would make sure the Prince is alright.

“He will be fine, Gaius?” he asks, scanning Arthur who lays unconscious on the bed.

“Oh, just fine. He should wake shortly. Did anybody see you arrive?”

“No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“Because I’m sure the Prince won’t want people knowing what happened.”

I sit at the table, wrapped in Leon’s cloak, said person sitting next to me. I realise Merlin might not have the same cover story so I think of a way to bring it up without arousing suspicion.

“Merlin,” I call. “I was just telling Sir Leon about what happened. How Arthur was trying to elope and we went to stop him. That you knocked him out and stuff,” I say, hoping my eyes hint at him not show any confusion but the boy is smart.

“Yeah. He was quite adamant about marrying her but I don’t think he will anymore.” His head tilts, pursing his lips. “He will also probably tell his father something other story and nobody will thank us but what’s new,” he rants. Leon laughs; looking intrigued by the interaction but doesn’t say anything.

“The things we do for Arthur,” I muse, leaning onto the knight for warmth. “I need some dry clothes.”


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

“Merlin!” Gaius calls to the servant who is on his knees, scrubbing the floor. “I need some of those poppy roots and Myrtle for my supplies.” The boy lets out a melodramatic groan, sliding onto the floor. I lean against a counter, sitting on the floor myself sewing a dress for a courtier.

“I have to get Arthur’s laundry done, walk his dogs and clean his chamber pot,” he protests. Putting down my work I look at the overworked warlock.

“I can walk his dogs and do his laundry but I am not touching his chamber pot,” I offer, knowing that my workload is nowhere near his. He looks at me from his spot on the floor.

“Really?” he asks in a meek voice. I nod, already putting my stuff away. “You are amazing Elena,” he beams, the puppy dog eyes back in play.

“I’ll come with you to get Gaius’ stuff then I’ll do Arthur’s jobs,” I smile, standing up and grabbing one of Gaius’ weaved baskets. We walk through Camelot into the forest, sticking to the edges as we search the grounds for the plants Gaius requested.

“I feel like nothing good ever happens from this place. Every time we go in something happens,” I ramble, recalling all the things that have happened. Of course, I am exaggerating but it certainly feels like somebody nearly dies each time.

“Something goes wrong every time Arthur wakes up,” Merlin counters.

“Touché.”

While I have helped Gaius on many occasions over the past year and a half, I don’t recall ever working with herbs. Merlin saunters along the grass, concentrating on each plant as he scans for what he needs and I follow behind not actually knowing what they looked like. He picks out a few red flowers that I do recognise as poppies and places them in the basket I was holding. 

“I think Myrtle is deeper in,” Merlin announces, turning direction to travel further into the forest. I follow him, taking in nature as I’d never seen myrtle before so there is no point in looking for it unless I ask what it looks like but I am enjoying the fresh air. I look at Merlin’s back, covered in his brown jacket that he is seldom without. And that scarf. I suck my lips in thought, feeling the familiar pull of a string towards him, one that I can’t cut. Would I if I could? Was the pull truly that bad? No. I enjoyed Merlin’s company and he enjoys mine.

“Be careful of the cliffside,” Merlin calls back over his shoulder, ducking under a tree. We follow a path that leads adjacent to a ravine, a steep hill of sticks and stone leading to the bottom. I lean over to look, making my head spin so I pull back, taking a step away from it. “Arthur’s being such a prat lately,” he complains loudly, now free from prying ears.

“More than usual?”

“Yes. It’s like he wants me so occupied that I don’t have time for anything else. I can’t remember that last time I bathed,” he laments.

“Gross,” I laugh, playfully gagging as I come to walk next to him. “No wonder you smell like the pigs,” I tease. He shoves my shoulder making me tilt over. I shove him back harder and he nearly falls but catches himself, giving me a face of surprise. Using his elbow, he shoves me harder on my shoulder, just meaning to knock me over but my root catches on a root.

“Merlin!” I shriek, feeling myself about to fall, fear flashing through me. Merlin reaches to grab me, our hands managing to catch each other but the momentum is enough to pull him down as well. We hit the edge of the ravine edge but the rounded edge and our tumbling bodies are enough to send us both over the edge.

I bounce, knocking off stones and sticks and leaves fly into the air as we fall down the hill. It seems to go on forever. Merlin’s jolts and cries mixed with my own as we narrowly miss trees, not that we could see them coming; spinning and tumbling as we fall. My head smacks against something, a stinging pain erupting on my forehead but it feels like more of a cut than anything else.

The ground flattens out and my tumbling comes down to a stop, lying face-first on the ground. I hear Merlin’s body land not far away, accompanied by his groan.

“Elena?” he calls out, shuffling to his feet.

“I told you nothing good happens in the forest,” I grumble, still lying on the ground. Pushing myself away, I bring myself into a kneeling position and self asses my body. Mostly aches and pains which would turn into bruises but my forehead stings. I bring my hand to it and feel the stickiness of blood on my fingers. Cringing at the sight I look to Merlin who is already standing, a bloody nose. Feeling the wetness he wipes it with his hand but stops realising its blood. I move to stand up but groan as the swiftly forming bruises make an appearance. Merlin walks over, offering his hand.

“Thanks,” I grunt, putting my hand in his.

As our hands connect this ethereal feeling overcomes me, a gasp shooting unwillingly from my throat. My body tenses, unable to let go of Merlin’s hand and by the look on his face, he feels the same. It is like the bond, the string I felt connecting me too him is a thousand times stronger. I feel these emotions, ones I have no connection to bubble in my body.

A golden glow like the one that Merlin’s eyes turn to emits from in-between our palms, a concentrated mist reaching out, swirling around our joined hands. Everything else in the world stops purely for this moment. No Camelot, no Arthur no knights. Just pure magic. The golden swirls move upwards along my arm stopping just under my elbow, seeping into my skin. The mist hasn’t moved along Merlin’s arm like mine, the mist wrapping around his wrist.

The light pulsates; beginning at Merlin then flows towards me. As soon as the first pulse reaches the point at my elbow, my whole arm begins to burn. My face contorts in pain, clenching my hand, not in Merlins.

“It… it hurts,” I whimper out but I’m sure he can see from. I feel him struggle to try to pull away from me.

“I can’t let go,” he groans, sinking to the ground, kneeling in front of me. My skin bubbles near the elbow, reddening like I am having a reaction to something but the rash takes shape. A symbol, three swirls. Once the shape is complete, the golden mist retreats to its source in our palms. I release Merlin’s hand, collapsing to the ground. My fingers trace the outline of the pattern on my arm, liked a tattoo that’s raised as a scar. There is no more pain but the pull towards Merlin remains as it felt just before. The string now a chain, too thick for a sword to break.

“What was that?” I cry, a sob bubbling in my chest. “Merlin, you better tell me what that was,” I shriek, grabbing his shirt in tight fists. The boy is petrified, just as I am shaking his head and trying to take deep breaths.

“I…don't know,” he splutters, staring at the symbol. “I’ve never heard of anything like it. What is that?” he reaches out to touch it, tracing it just as I did. “Kilgharrah.”

“What?” I wail, not understanding the word.

“The dragon I was talking about, his name is Kilgharrah. He might know, he’s been able to tell me things before. We have to get back to Camelot and get your head looked at too.”

I shake my head no, holding back a wince. “No, my head is fine. Mentally not so much right now,” I admit, sniffling to hold back tears. Merlin nods slowly, his eyes moving behind me. He lets go of me, walking behind where he was looking and bends down to pick something up. He comes back, holding up a white flower.

“Got the myrtle,” he chirps.

“Good job,” I say under my breath.

We limp into Camelot, both supporting each other as we trek back up to the castle. I keep glancing at my arm, the mark on full display. Through the lower town, I stop Merlin.

“Can I have your scarf?”

The warlock hesitates in confusion but takes it off and hands it to me. Taking it in my left hand I place it over the mark and try to tie it but struggle with only one hand. Merlin catches on, tying it off for me. I silently thank him and we continue our hobble back to the castle.

“You’re taking me to see the dragon, yeah?” I ask, wanting to know what this is and why it happened. I didn’t want to wait, not even through Gaius’ prattling while we get our wounds treated. Not that our wounds are that horrendous, my head looks worse than it is, since heads bleed a lot compared to other wounds. It has dripped down the side of my face onto my neck but the cut is shallow and long. It wouldn’t even need stitches. I had inspected Merlin’s nose as we were walking and it doesn’t seem to be broken.

“Yes. I think this calls for a visit to him,” Merlin agrees as we walk into the court. I let Merlin lead the way, his arm over my shoulder as he hurt his leg. My sides hurt, bruised and aching but fine enough to be able to walk.

“Merlin? Elena?” someone calls from behind us. Our heads turn, seeing Leon dressed in his full knight gear, cape and all. He jogs up to us, eyes scanning over us in shock. “What happened?”

“We’re fine, Leon,” I sigh, not in the mood to talk with him at the moment. I would end up saying something I regret. I turn back around intending to keep walking but a hand stops us from going further.

“No, you’re not alright. Neither of you are.” The tone of his voice deepens as though trying to use his knightly standing to get us to speak. “Merlin, I need to know what’s happened, should I inform Arthur. Were you attacked? Gaius is the other way-“

“I said we’re fine, Leon,” I snap, eyes blazing into him. I feel bad, even more so as I see him step back, frowning. But right now I couldn’t deal with any other person but Merlin. Merlin is all that I need and the only person I want to talk to. The only person who may be able to help me. I blame the string-turned-chain.

“Right,” he growls nodding shortly, turning around to walk away. I sigh, leaning my forehead against the warlock’s shoulder.

“I thought you like Leon,” Merlin muses.

“I do,” I answer. “I’ll have to apologise later. But right now I can’t handle talking to anybody.”

“Understandable,” he sympathised.

I give one last look over my shoulder at the knight who turns a corner out of view before urging Merlin to continue leading. We venture into a part of the castle I’ve never explored, down into the lower levels. Merlin uses magic to distract the guards and we sneak past them into a tunnel that leads even deeper under the castle, further down than I ever imagined it went.

The tunnel ends on a rocky cliff inside a humongous cavern. The sound of wings flapping echoes off the wall, coming closer. Even though I am expecting it, the sight of a dragon nearly forces me to the ground in shock but I hold myself steady as it perches itself on a rock formation in front of us.

“Ahh. And what do we have here?” the dragon speaks, its head leaning forward as it gazes at me.

“Something happened to us. While we were out in the forest,” Merlin begins, “when our hands joined, this gold mist appeared. It burned a symbol on her arm.”

“My, I haven’t seen one these in many years,” the dragon hums as though it is smiling.

“You know what happened?” I beam. This dragon may be the key to all my questions.

“I do, my child. Your people are called many names but in this language, you are called a Vessel.”

A Vessel? But that doesn’t make any sense. I’m not a boat.

“What is a Vessel?” Merlin presses, more confident with speaking to a dragon then me. “What happened in the forest with the mist?”

“The name has gone through many translations over time but it means exactly what it says. Your friend here is a Vessel. Her body is like a ship, and every ship needs a captain or a Meistr as they are titled. What happened in the forest was a ritual, a blood binding oath to each other.”

“An oath? What type of oath?” I interrupt.

“An oath that connects a Vessel to its Meistr, the mixing of blood,” he reiterates. Small connections form in my head, at the same time they do in Merlin’s. I glance at Merlin’s bloody hand then down at my own.

“Me? Are you trying to say I’m this ‘Meistr’,” Merlin scoffs, not believing his ears. The dragon nods.

“Yes. But it is not a slave-to-master bond. She has offered her mind and body to you, Merlin, wittingly or not, you are now connected. Vessels are rare creature, sought out by those who practice magic. A Vessel is able to give them many advantages. Those who have magic in their blood and Vessels are natural companions and they feel a pull to those who they make their connections with.

“Vessels has the natural ability to move the energy in this world, however, it needs someone with magic to harness this. A Meistr has the ability to unlock this potential. The Old Religion has many tales of these connections, some saying that a Meistr after many years of training can inhabit their Vessel's body and cast spells through them. Magic is a form of energy, those who practice it can wield it but Vessels are born with a natural connection to it, just like you Merlin. Vessels were sought out for their ability to enhance a sorcerer’s power.”

“So I’m sort of like a power-up,” I say, trying to make a joke. Merlin hasn’t said anything, still taking everything in. The dragon lets out a short laugh, surprising me.

“In a way. But we warned. This bond is not flexible, only breakable by death; distance is no friend in this bond. Meistrs are the priority of the Vessel, they serve to protect and support. If a Vessel is to die, the connection is severed. A weak Vessel leads to a weak sorcerer. ”

“This…is a lot,’ I mumble, my brain scattered in trying to take everything in. “How do I do this…thing?”

“I’m afraid I do not know that. I have never encountered a Vessel before and the tales do not give any word on how these actions are performed. I must also warn you, this bond is not always beneficial. Merlin’s magic is now only accessible through the Vessel until the day she dies, which is the price to pay.”

“I was taken- from my home by someone with magic. Is that why they took me, because they hoped I would join them?”

“It is very much possible. Those with magic feel the connection as well. Someone could have sought you out for their own gain.”

“Thank you,” I say, bowing my head at the dragon.

“Elena, as a Vessel, you have the choice to make. When a Meistr is wounded, you may choose to take it on yourself. If a Meister is to die, so will the Vessel, but the Meistr can live on even if the Vessel dies.” The voice is inside my head, vibrating against my skull. “How do I do that?” I think but I receive no answer.

“Glad to be of help,” he answers, flying away to whatever part of the cavern he came from.

Merlin and I silently exit the caves, limping back to Gaius. Neither of us knows what to say, the dragon’s words replaying in my head. My eyes sting and I try to blink to wash the water in them away. Exhaustion rakes over my body, desperate to sleep. I stop right outside Gaius’ door.

“I think I’m just going to go up to my room,” I whisper, hugging myself.

“But your head-“

“It’s shallow. I can clean it myself.” I bite my lip, looking down at my boots. “I just need some time, I’m sure you do too.” Merlin nods, swallowing thickly. I hug him goodbye, turning around to go to my chamber’s hallway.

I pass straight by my door, heading for another. I knock on it, louder than usual. Footsteps shuffle on the other side, the door swinging open to the only person I wanted to see right now besides Merlin.

“El- are you okay?” Torj croaks, holding the door open for me to come in. I shake my head, letting the tears fall onto my cheeks. I swallow any pride I have left, falling onto Torj with my hands wrapping around his neck. He returns the embrace immediately.

We stand there, for longer than I can count for. I wail without holding back into his chainmail and he stands there holding me up without saying anything. I don’t want to be questioned, have somebody tell me to get fixed. Right now, I need Torj, the man who understands what someone needs without them having to explain themselves.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

“What happened to your head?” Arthur inquires, leaning forward and squinting to get a better look at it. Like I had assumed, the cut was shallow but long and it had already closed itself over after I cleaned it. “Merlin was knocked up as well…what were you two doing?” he wonders. “Actually – do I even want to know?”

“We fell down a ravine out in the forest when we were getting some things for Gaius, Sire,” I say, fiddling with a new dress shirt on him for fitting. “Thanks for the concern,” I mutter under my breath. “The shirt fits perfectly.”

“I knew Merlin was clumsy but you are becoming more like him every day. It’s like your becoming twins,” Arthur rattles on.

“You have no idea.” Arthur walks to his closest, removing the shirt. My fingers which are putting away my needle and thread pause as I watch the Prince move. Muscles that I haven’t seen on him before have come to light, announcing themselves to the world. “Praise my eyes,” I whisper trying to look away. The knights clothing always covered their upper body and it’s not like they usually change in front of a woman. Too soon though, Arthur grabs another, plainer shirt and puts it on, covering the short and beautiful sight I just experienced. I shake myself out of my trance, finishing putting away the needle and thread in my bag. I wonder if all the knights looked like him underneath that chainmail.

I take my leave, not having anywhere else to be and saunter through the castle just thinking to myself. My feet take me to my window that looks over the training ground. I lean against the window, looking out at the men. A presence comes and stands next to me.

“Elena, haven’t seen you around much lately,” Gwen greets, the kind smile I know her for on her face.

“Gwen!” I chirp. “Good morning. I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit caught up with a few things. I should come to visit you and your father sometime this week.”

“That would be nice,” she nods, looking out the window as I was. A servant acts as a live target for striking, protected by armour and a shield as one of the men strike him. “Glad I’m not them, I’ve seen Merlin after one of those sessions. Could barely lift his arms.”

I giggle, remembering that day. “The knights have quite a bit of strength behind them. In fact, I just saw Arthur shirtless,” I say, smirking playfully. “And while he may not be that bright on the inside, I would say his abs make up for it.” Gwen widens her eyes, her head tilting in thought as we laugh together. A head of blonde hair is visible on the grounds, one I need to speak to. “I wonder if all knights look like Arthur?” I ponder playfully. “You’re trying to imagine it aren’t you?”

Gwen nods, eyebrows raised as if she is visualising it. “I just can’t see past his arrogance though.”

“It is a downer isn’t it. But I’ll have to see you later Gwen, I have someone I need to see.”

“I’ll let my father know that you are coming.”

“Looking forward to it.”

I need to apologise to Leon, my attitude to him the previous day was not called for but I just couldn’t handle anything. The mark is still on my arm, covered by a long sleeve shirt, giving Merlin back his scarf last night.

Skipping outside, Torj is talking with two other knights that I don’t know. I search for the blonde that I saw out here not ten minutes ago. My head spins, looking for him but he’s no longer outside. I glide over to Torj, waiting for the other two knights to stop speaking so I can.

“Hey Torj, did you see where Leon went, I need to speak to him about something.”

The redhead nods, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah lass, he finished for the day, he’s in the armoury taking his stuff off. He’s in a right pissed mood too,” he warns. I nod and let him get back to his conversation with the other two. I’d only been in the armoury a few times. The training armoury at least, where they store blunt swords and armour.

True to Torj’s words, Leon is inside with a servant, having his armour removed. I stand in the archway, waiting and watching. Leon doesn’t speak to the servant, just silently helping him with latches. Once all the armour is removed, left in just his usual chainmail the servant leaves, brushing past me. I watch the knight for a moment longer, following his hand as he grazes it along a blunt sword lost in thought.

I step forward, making sure I make noise to let him now I’m here. His head snaps in my direction, obviously unprepared as he exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. His eyes drift from my own to my forehead then back to the sword he just dropped his hand from. Ok, I would speak first.

“I’m sorry,” I gulp, “about yesterday. I was… tired and confused. And I didn’t want to say anything I would regret, especially to someone I care about.” Leon just stands there, looking at me with an expressionless face, not responding. “Please don’t take it personally, I would’ve snapped at the King if he was there,” I add, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asks flatly.

“Well this-“ I say, gesturing to my head, “-was because Merlin and I fell down a ravine looking for myrtle for Gaius. But I was told something yesterday and it just shocked me. I’m dealing with it now, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Can you tell what it is?” he asks in an even voice, not betraying any emotion. I internally wince, knowing I can’t, which is not making my situation any better.

“No… it’s not really my secret to tell,” I murmur, biting my cheek.

“Does Merlin know?”

“…Yes.” My eyes wander, not looking forward at his face. “I didn’t exactly tell him though, he was just there when it happened. If I could – I would tell you in a heartbeat. Leon, I trust you so much but I just… can’t.” I plead, now staring into his eyes.

Leon nods, walking forwards towards me. “I get it.” He pats my shoulder. “I’ll see you around.” He continues past me, back outside. I watch him with droopy eyes. He was and still is upset, but I have done what I can, I’ve apologised. He just needs a day.

No, I won’t let him walk away. I turn around, feet pumping into the ground. I turn into a corridor, glancing left and right. He is nearing the end of it so I pick my pace back up, almost sprinting down to him.

“Leon!” I cry out. The knight turns around, stopping as he sees me storming towards him.

I get closer and closer ever second. If I am being honest with myself, I’m not sure what I plan to do once I reach him but I have to do something. Five steps, four, three, two, one. It happens in slow motion. I leap up, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck so he can’t escape. I don’t know why I did it (ok I do), I didn’t even know I was going to, it just happened. I slam my lips against his. He steps back from the force of my actions but he quickly steadies himself, wrapping his own arms around my waist, returning the gesture.

The reality of my actions hit me. I release my grasp on him, breathing heavily from the running. I stare up at Leon, his own eyes opening in surprise. My face is burning as I try to think of something to say.

“Ah, yeah. See you around,” I say, patting his arm as he had done to me. I turn around and walk back the way I came. I don’t hear his footsteps so I assume he is standing there in just as much shock as me. I scrunch my eyes, not believing what I just did and the way I ended it. Mouthing curses words at myself I have to go through the training area to get back to the part of the castle I need to go to.

“El, did you sort things out with Leon,” Torj calls, holding his sword taking a break from fighting his opponent.

“Uh,” I hesitate, not actually knowing the answer. “No I think I made things worse actually.” I keep walking, not wanting to discuss it, hurrying back inside. Merlin. I need Merlin. He would be doing chores for Arthur right now, maybe polishing. I could ask Gaius. Or Arthur if it comes to that.

But it doesn’t need to come to that, the wanted man running around through the halls.

“Elena!” he cries, running down to greet me.

“Merlin, I was just looking for you actually,” I greet. “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve run a marathon.”

He nods, wide-eyed, breathing hoarsely. “I, I was just doing some things for Arthur when I felt it.”

“Felt what?”

“The connection. It felt like you were in trouble,” he splutters out, frowning as he looks at me. “You look fine though.”

“I wasn’t in trouble,” I explain. “I didn’t know you could feel what I felt. I wonder if that goes both ways. But I’m fine, I just had a moment of adrenaline.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s good then.”

“We could use that to our advantage you know. If we learn to control it like that dragon said.”

“How?”

“Like if one of us is in trouble, it could alert the other.”

Merlin nods, agreeing. “Yeah, we should figure this out. Maybe Gaius has a book.”

“Of course, I can check in the library too.”

It feels weird being so close to him now, almost like a sense of satisfaction – or feeling complete. Being away, even at the training grounds, in the back of my mind, it was telling me to find Merlin. Like a child needing a favourite blanket.

“Hey. Why were you so worked up, I could feel your heart beating pretty fast?” Merlin inquires, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. My face burns for a second time.

“I just had to run for a few moments,’ I lie, eyes not meeting his.

“Uh-huh, sure,” he crows. “You’re a worse liar than Arthur,” he teases.

“Oh please,” I scoff, “have you ever seen Gwen lie. She looks like she guilty of murder, no way I’m that bad.”

We banter for a while but Merlin has to go back to doing his job and I leave, going back to my room to sew a dress for Morgana. I need some downtime, the last week has thrown me in the air and I just want to land in a cloud. Simplicity, sewing a dress and eating my dinner by myself. I would need to face Leon again. And tell Castor that he owes Torj twenty-five gold coins.

Just as finish a pattern in the dress, I hear a cry of pain that comes from a child’s voice. I drop the needle and cloth, gaping around my room. Everything looks the same, I even bend to look under my bed but there is nothing. I open my door, peering out into the corridor but it yields me the same result. The voice sounded so close to me, as though from behind me.

“Help!” the voice calls again, a helpless child in pain. “Help me! Please.” The voice. It comes from inside my head. Was this part of my new connection to Merlin? It couldn’t be though; the voice belongs to a child. “Please you have to help me. Help me.” My breath quickens as I search around for the source, panic bubbling through me. “They’re searching for me.”

“Why are they after you?” this time, a new voice enters, this one I know belongs to Merlin. He is speaking to someone, a child in his mind and I was hearing it, mind and body linked to him.

“They’re going to kill me.”

The speaking stops as I lean against my door, figuring out what to do. I feel the tug of the connection, a constant pull. I let it guide me, outside into the corridor.

“This way. Run. Run!”

That is the last I hear of either of them but I follow the pull, feeling it strengthen as I come closer, my feet now sprinting on the stone floor. It leads me to the other side of the castle, nearly knocking into a few servants and courtiers. Finally, Merlin comes into view, a young boy who the voice belonged to with him. The boy and I lock eyes but he doesn’t speak to me. Merlin and I glance at each other, hearing the guards’ footsteps nearing our spot. I nod to Morgana’s door. They get my message, not bothering to knock and we slide inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Have you two forgotten how to knock?” Morgana exclaims, Gwen looking just as stunned.

“The guards are after him. I didn’t know what to do.”

The door knocks behind us, making me jump away from it.

“My Lady?”

Merlin looks at Morgana with desperation.

“In there,” she says, pointing to her screen. I wait with Gwen, my presence would not raise suspicion. Once Merlin and the boy are hidden, Morgana opens to door.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, My Lady. We’re searching for the druid boy,” the guards says from the door.

“I haven’t seen anyone. It just my maid and seamstress with me,” she answers.

“Best keep the door locked till we find him,” the guard advises.

“Of course. Thank you.”

“The guard is right,” I say. “We should probably lock your door.” Morgana does as suggested, preventing anyone else storming in here unannounced. We stride over to the screen, pulling it back to check on the boy. The boy lies unconscious in Merlin’s arms, the said warlock’s hand covered in blood.

“Merlin, we should go talk to Gaius,” I claim, wanting to talk to him myself in private. Merlin looks at Morgana.

“Will you be alright here with him? We’ll come back later and check on him.”

Morgana nods, eyeing the boy. “Of course.”


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

As we walk back to Gaius’ chambers I glance around making sure nobody is in hearing distance. I tug on Merlin’s jacket pulling him to the side, out of sight.

“Merlin. I heard the boy as well,” I tell him in an urgent whisper. Merlin looks confused.

“He spoke to you as well?”

“No.” I shake my head, trying to word this right. “No, Merlin. I heard him talking to you. And I heard you respond.”

“You heard him speaking to me in my mind? Do you think it has something to do with being a Vessel?”

“What else could it be?” I shrug. “The dragon said we would be connected. But how was that boy speaking to you? Does he have magic?”

“I think so. He’s a druid but I’ve never heard of someone speaking to another telepathically.”

We do as I suggested, going back to Gaius’s chambers to try and get some information out of the physician. Merlin sits on a seat at the table and I take a seat on the table itself, legs dangling off the edge, the physician working on a remedy. The warlock and I look at each, both asking how we would bring the topic up casually. Eventually, I’m the one to bite it.

“So Gaius,” I begin slowly. “I heard they captured a Druid in Camelot today. I don’t know much about the druids, we didn’t have them in my home,” I finish, hoping I directed my words to encourage him to share anything he knows.

“There’s not much to say about them really. They’re a secretive bunch of people, even more so now that they are being hunted by Uther.”

“What for?”

“Magic. They are known for practising it.” He sighs, turning around to look at us. “Please tell me you two haven’t gotten mixed up in all this.”

“Me Gaius?” I gasp, “Never.”

“You’re just as bad as him!” Gaius exclaims, shoving an accusing finger at Merlin.

“Well I’m not involved so don’t worry,” Merlin defends.

“You’re both liars,” the physician retorts.

“We haven’t done anything,” Merlin pushes, my own mind wondering if maybe I am a terrible liar after all.

“Merlin…”

“I heard the boy calling out. He was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear him…like he was inside my mind,” Merlin explains, fascinated.

“Yes, I’ve heard of this ability. The druids look for children with such gifts to serve as apprentices. While they’re searching for this boy you must be especially careful otherwise it’ll be your head on the chopping block. I don’t trust Elena enough to keep you out of trouble either.”

Rather than being offended, I shrug in agreement.

“We’re always careful. You know us.”

“Unfortunately.”

Merlin and I head down into the city for Gaius, picking up supplies.

“Shouldn’t you be doing this for Arthur right now?” I ask, considering it is the middle of the day.

“Yes,” Merlin replies. “But he can survive without me for a day.”

“But will you survive. Maybe he’ll be generous and just put you in the stocks again,” I tease. “You’re like a reoccurring show for them.”

I am expecting a witty comeback, as Merlin is full of sass but he’s silent. I look at him, his concentration already taken by something else. Following his line of sight I see the royal guards poking around in a hay cart with long metal poles.

“We should go check on them,” Merlin mutters.

Merlin and I enter Morgana’s chamber, Gwen nowhere to be seen. I crouch by the boy, brushing his hair out of his face as he stares at me. Morgana and Merlin speak to each other but I don’t hear their conversation.

“You are a Vessel,” the boy speaks, in my mind. I look to Merlin to see if he heard anything but he’s still conversing with Morgana. The boy is talking just to me.

“That’s what I’ve been told,” I reply, hoping he would hear me.

“Your people are sacred among mine.”

“You mean the druids?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t say anything more, and I don’t reply not entirely sure what I should say.

“Why are you helping him?” Morgana enquires.

“It was a spur of the moment decision,” Merlin lies. “What do you think we should do with him? He can’t stay here.”

“We need to find a way to get him out of the castle and back to the druids,” I answer for Morgana. “But we need to think about this. Our heads are already on a chopping block.”

“Yes, we do,” the Ward agrees. “I am dinning with Uther. Come back tomorrow and we can talk.”

Merlin and I split ways to our respective chambers. I walk with my head down, my mind occupied with thoughts of the druid boy, running through ideas on how to get him out.

“Well, well, well,” a voice sings in front of me. Breaking from my thoughts I see Torj and Castor standing in front of me, their red cloaks sitting gracefully on their shoulders. Torj is smiling gleefully at me while Castor frowns, muttering under his breath.

“What?” I ask, looking between them.

“I knew you would,” Torj smirks.

“Knew I would do what?” I ask, worry starting to pile up. Did they know about the druid boy? Would they say anything? They wouldn’t tell Uther. But they are sworn to the King. They don’t answer, just continue staring at me. “Seriously guys. Tell me,” I demand, not finding the situation as funny as Torj.

“Thanks for making my pockets about twenty five gold pieces heavier,” he beams, patting his side.

“Wha-. Oh.” Oh this is just embarrassing. “I’ve got to go,” I mutter, striding past them, brushing against Castor’s cloak.

“We had a deal!” Castor yells back over Torj’s now booming laughter. I jog a little, running into my door and slamming it behind me. I hadn’t seen Leon since yesterday and I wasn’t sure what I would say to him when I did. I lean against the door, sliding to the ground. I repeatedly bang my head against the wood, begging to forget that moment ever happened.

The next day rolls around quickly and I had been called to see the King in the morning for a fitting which I spent most of my morning on, working away at it so I could spend the afternoon with the boy and Morgana. Afternoon has come, and I haven’t even left my room since coming back from the King’s chambers, the day wasted sewing. Finishing mending the clothes together I exit my chambers and grab the nearest servant passing by.

“Deliver these to the King,” I tell him, not waiting for a response before heading over to Gaius’ chambers.

“Merlin,” I call, knocking on the door.

“I’m here,” he responds, jogging out to meet me. “Let’s go.”

Entering Morgana’s chambers we stride over to the boy. He lies down unconscious, sweat pooling on his head and slight shiver. Merlin places a hand to the boy’s forehead.

“He’s burning up. How long has he been like this?”

“Since early morning,” she informs us, looking at the boy worriedly. “I think his wound may be infected. We need Gaius before it gets any worse.”

“No. we can’t involve Gaius. It’s too dangerous. Besides, if he finds out about this, he’ll execute me himself.”

“We need to get him out of Camelot, and we can’t do that while he’s sick. We need a physician.”

“We don’t need a physician,” I say, thinking deeply. “We just need a book. Gaius has plenty. Surely one of them will say something about treating infections. We can get the things we need from him as well.”

A knock at the door breaks our conversation. We look at each other, Morgana acting first and shutting the curtains, blocking us from view.

“Arthur! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Merlin and I lean out, my head and neck bending under his arms to see.

‘Don’t get all excited. It’s not a social call. I’m looking for the Druid boy. I’m afraid I’m going to have to search your chambers.”

“You’re not searching my chambers,” Morgana commands but the Prince is already opening cupboards.

“Don’t take it personally. I have to search the entire castle. Only take a few minutes.”

“I’m not having you mess up my things,” Morgana argues.

“I’m not interested in your things,” Arthur jeers. “I’m just looking for any evidence that the Druid boy’s in the castle.”

My eyes land on a pair of boots, which are most certainly not Morganas. I knock Merlin’s shoulder, pointing at them through the curtain.

“Bestepe 'scós,” Merlin whispers. His eyes glow golden and simultaneously, my mark on my right arm, the one that I got in the forest burns, flaring up as the spell is cast. Just as quickly as it comes, it stops. It felt like an unseen force just soared through my body.

“Really, I’m touched by the confidence you have in my abilities. And, as much as I’d love to stay and talk, the sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll be finished. I watch the boots tiptoe across the floor but Arthur moves again.

“Gestælle scós,” Merlin casts, the boots moving back towards a column. Just as before, the mark on my arm burns, though it is not painful. It feels more like hot water, a warmth spreading through it. Once Arthur turns around again, for a third time, Merlin uses his magic. “Ástýre scós,” and once again, the mark burns.

“Well, I’ll save you the trouble.”

“Trust me, if I could find him, I would.”

“The Druid boy’s hiding behind the screen,” Morgana states. Merlin and I lean back away from the curtain, my hands grasping his back, ready to pull him out of the way if necessary. “I’m sure your father would love to know how you wasted your time by rifling through my things. Go on,” she eggs him. The warlock and I comprehend what she is doing, relaxing my grip more, my head resting on his shoulder to peek back out over him.

“So you can have the satisfaction of making me look like a fool?” Arthur drawls.

“Doesn’t need help there,” I mutter in Merlin’s ear, his hand squeezing my knee, telling me both to keep quiet and that he agrees.

“In my experience, you don’t need any help looking like a fool. What are you waiting for? Take a look,” she taunts.

“Why don’t you go back to brushing your hair, or whatever it is that you do all day?” Arthur mocks.

“Sexist pig,” I mutter.

“Bye, Arthur. Good luck with your search,” she taunts again as the footsteps leave.

Waiting a few minutes before we come out, we leave to go back to Gaius’ chambers to get something to help the druid boy. Merlin scrambles through the physician’s books, unable to read the writing myself. I could if I can concentrate but this is not the time to be looking at it letter by letter.

“Bites, bruises, burns, wounds…infections.”

“What does it say?” I ask, leaning over to look. Merlin reads off the list of supplies, and I go around with a small back picking them out from Gaius’ collection. “Here.” I hand over the bag, making sure we have everything at the same moment that Gaius enters the quarters.

“Ah, there you are. Merlin, I need you to pick some heather for me.”

“Er, can I do it later. I was just helping Elena with something,” Merlin counters. Gaius peers down at the book we left open on the table.

“Who set this book out?”

“It was me,” I say. “I was interested in some things and Merlin was happy to help me.”

“You got Merlin interested in my work, why, I’d nearly given up hope.”

“No, it’s fascinating,” Merlin lies.

“Merlin, you are a riddle wrapped up in a mystery.”

“That’s me. I was just getting some cleaning supplies, Elena is helping me with some of Arthur’s chores. He’s been complaining about the state of his chambers.”

“I think Arthur’s chambers can wait. I’m not missing the chance to begin your education.”

“Really, I should go.”

“Sit! We’ll start with some basic anatomy.” Merlin hands me the pouch, signalling for me to go as Gaius lugs a ginormous book onto the table, making the dust fly up. The physician notices me slowly making my way to the exit.

“Elena! You’re the one who was interested in the first place, you’ll find this fascinating,” Gaius calls, gesturing for me to take a spot next to Merlin.

“I guess I was,” I mutter, sitting down.

Gaius rambles on, reading from the book. How could someone be so passionate about anatomy is beyond me. After twenty minutes, I feel like I’m in a lecture hall again, my head slowly falling down until I’m leaning against Merlin, unable to lift my head. My eyes close, trying to preserve my energy. Merlin’s fingers flick my side, trying to keep me awake but they are useless.

My eyes snap open, awakening from the heavy bang of the book closing. Merlin’s head snaps up from resting on his hands. I wipe drool off the side of my mouth.

“That was just some light information, we can start learning more in detail later,” Gaius says, putting the book away.

“Thank you, Gaius. Looking forward to it,” I tell him, pulling Merlin up. “Did he not see us fall asleep?” I whisper into his ear.

“No, he was too caught up in the book.”

We sprint to Morgana’s chambers, who opens the door frantically.

“What took you so long?”

“Sorry. Once Gaius gets talking about anatomy, there’s no stopping him.” He bends down, using what we bought to make a paste for the wound.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I’m doing my best,” Merlin retorts.

“I’ll get you some more water.”

“Thank you, Emrys” I stare at the boy, but he’s looking at Merlin. Why did he call him Emrys?

“Emrys? Why do you call me that?”

“Among my people, that is your name.”

“You know who I am. How?” 

“He knew what I am too,” I whisper to him. Morgana shows back up with her water.

“I don’t know if he can’t speak, or… he’s just too scared to.”

I wrap up Merlin’s work and we leave Morgana and the boy for the night, already past my normal sleep routine. I go to leave but Merlin drags me down through the Tunnel Corridor into the dragon’s cave.

“Hello?” he calls out. My hands wrap around myself, the chill of being so far down in the night chilling my bones. Unlike last time I met Kilgharrah, there are no sounds of wings flapping or a chain rattling. The dragon materialises from behind a large boulder, roaring. I shriek, back up into Merlin’s chest who stands behind me. His hand wraps around my chest but he sighs, releasing me as he sees the dragon.

“Do you have to do that? You scared the life out of us?” he exclaims. I step to the side, behind Merlin who is a lot more confident in the presence of the dragon.

“The young warlock and his Vessel. No doubt you’re here about the Druid boy,” the creature replies, flying over to his rock in front of us, the heat of his breath hitting me and warming me up.

“How did you know?”

“Like you, I hear him speak.”

“Why does he call me Emrys?”

“Because that is your name.”

“I’m pretty sure my name’s Merlin, always has been,” Merlin counters.

“You have many names.”

“Do I? How does the boy know who I am? I’ve never even met any Druids.”

“There is much written about you that you have yet to read. You should not protect this boy.”

“Why? He has magic. He’s just like me,” Merlin argues.

“You and the boy are as different as day and night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Heed my words, Merlin.”

“Why should I not protect him?” Merlin cries out but the dragon doesn’t answer, flying away leaving me with the frustrated warlock.

“You are getting a collection of names. Merlin. Emrys. Meistr,” I note mindlessly, counting off on my fingers. “I should start making a list to keep track.”

“Let me know when you’ve written it,” he teases. He sighs, brow furrowing. “I don’t know what to do. He’s just a kid.”

“Merlin I’ll be honest. I don’t know either. But whatever you chose, I’ll help. I think we should help him but the dragon knows things we don’t.” The topic of the Druid boy reminds me of the events in Morgana’s chambers. “Merlin. When you cast that spell, back in Morgana’s room, my mark – I felt it.”

“I felt it too,” Merlin nods, searching my eyes. “Usually my magic, it feels like it just comes from around me. But this time – this time, I felt it come from you. It was amazing! It felt so pure. You were the source of my power.”

“So was it like Kilgharrah said?” I question, wondering what impact I actually had on him.

“Exactly,” Merlin gushes. “Magic has always felt natural but that was powerful. Like it was supercharged.”

“That’s amazing,” I exclaim but sober as I realise that we’ve come to the door to the physician’s chamber. “What are you going to do?”

Merlin looks away from me, to the door, closing his eyes for a moment. “He will die if we don’t.” He pushes the door open, muttering a greeting to Gaius. I follow him over to the stairs to his room, sitting on the step below. Gaius muddles around with his things, packing his physician’s pouch.

“The search for this Druid boy is becoming a real nuisance. With all the extra security around the castle, it’s taking me twice as long to do my round,” he complains. Merlin and I don’t answer. Merlin watches Gaius, the internal debate visible in his eyes. I wait for him to speak, wanting him to make the decision which I would follow. “Is everything ok?”

“Morgana’s hiding the Druid boy in her chambers,” he says solemnly.

“When you say that Morgana’s hiding the Druid boy, I take that means that you are both helping her?”

“Hey, why assume I am?” I scoff. Gaius gives me a pointed look.

“Sort of,” Merlin agrees.

“Merlin, you promised me you wouldn’t get involved. Not only are you risking your own life, but Elena’s as well.” Not that I care about risking my life right now, not if it was for Merlin.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t even want to drag Elena into it, she was just there.”

“Every guard in Camelot is searching for this boy, and you’re harbouring him under their very noses. Can’t you see how dangerous that is? What were you think of?”

“Was I supposed to hand him over to the guards to be executed?” Merlin counters.

“You think you can save this boy? What happens if one of you get caught? Who’s going to save you.”

I can. Kilgharrah said I could. I just don’t know how yet.

“Gaius. I’m sorry, truly I am. But he is dying. He’s a child and he hasn’t done anything wrong except be alive. You helped Merlin, you know about me. What makes this boy different is that his power is known to Uther but that doesn’t make his life any less than ours,” I say, standing up to plead my case.

“So now you want me to risk my neck too? I wish the boy no harm, but it’s too dangerous.”

“If you don’t you’re practically handing him his own death,” Merlin says. It is harsh, especially since Gaius is right – we are risking his life as well asking for this but I couldn’t stand by, just like Merlin. “You didn’t turn your back on me, so please don’t turn your back on him.”

The guilt trip works, however unpleasant it makes me feel inside as Gaius agrees to come to see the boy. He unwraps the bandage, inspecting the poultice and wound.

“I will treat the boy, but as soon as he’s well, you must get him out of Camelot. And woe betide anyone caught helping him.”

“Of course Gaius, if anything goes wrong I will take the blame for healing him,” I say. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. We wouldn’t have if we had any other option.”

“It’s alright my dear. But we do know one thing for certain.”

“What’s that,” Merlin wonders.

“You are no physician,” he says making me giggle at Merlin’s offended face.

Gaius leaves us, not wanting to stay too long and I thank him again. The remaining four of us (Gwen present) head down to the lower town to hatch a plan of escape in a more inconspicuous area. Guards are everywhere, inspecting every wagon, bush and home.

“The guards are searching everyone leaving the town,” Gwen observes.

“So we can’t leave through hiding in plain sight. They would search us even if we have nothing to hide,” I add, biting my finger. “We need a secret way, one where there is no guards.”

“There is another way out,” Merlin announces. “There’s a secret door in the armoury. It leads to the lower town. I’ll take the boy out that way.”

“No. It’s too dangerous. I’ll do it,” Morgana argues just as I was about to offer to come along.

“But-I-I’m good with secret doors and things.”

“If you’re caught, Uther will have you executed. The boy’s my responsibility. I’ll smuggle him out of the castle.”

“She’s right Merlin. I can’t help you if you get caught. Morgana has a chance if it goes wrong,” I plead with Merlin. He sighs, nodding.

“Well, you’ll need a key for the door.”

“Who has it?”

“Arthur.”

Merlin comes up with a plan, having to wait until Arthur is back in his chambers, alone with Merlin. I go with Morgana to wait in her chambers, spending the spare time designing a new dress for her with some spare paper and ink. Gwen has gone home, retrieving one of her dresses for Morgana to wear.

My hand sketches along with the paper mindlessly filling in lines. The mark on my arm burns again, my quill dropping in surprise.

“Are you alright?” Morgana asks as she sits near the boy.

“Yes, just poked myself,” I lie, eyes glancing down to it. Unlike before, where it was just a pure feeling of warmth, this time it burns more into a stinging sensation. Merlin was doing magic. Why does it sting? It goes away slowly until I feel nothing at all except the pull towards Merlin, a feeling which I have already become accustomed to. I yawn, feeling drowsy and no longer motivated to continue drawing.

Gwen enters, handing a dress to Morgana.

“Thank you, Gwen,” she says, going behind a makeshift screen to change. Coming back out, it is weird seeing Morgana in such a plain dress, her hair tied back in a low bun. “It’ll have to do,” she adds, sighing as she looks in her mirror. “I feel I’ve put you in danger without ever stopping to ask how you feel about it. I’m sorry,” she apologises to Gwen who doesn’t look upset.

“I know how it feels to face the threat of execution. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” The memory of her near-death experience makes my heartache, imagining either her or that boy on the execution block. A knock at the door halts these thoughts.

“It’s Merlin,” the warlock calls, Gwen opening the door as Morgana and I walk over to the Druid boy.

“We’re going to get you out of Camelot. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Morgana assures the boy as I smile encouragingly with him.

“Are you ready?” Merlin asks, kneeling down.

“Did you get the keys?”

“Yeah. The door behind the shield at the far end of the armoury.”

“I’ll pack you some food and water for the journey. Be careful.”

Morgana sneaks off with the boy, Gwen, Merlin and I going to Gwen’s house. Sneaking out of the castle is the hard part, the guards' numbers brought back down at night to normal guard in the town’s area.

Gwen puts together a bag, stuffing it with bread and fruit. “I hope they’re ok. Morgana really cares about the boy. I’ve never seen her this way with anyone.”

“Morgana is against Uther’s rule against magic. She wants to protect him,” I think aloud, reasoning for the ward in her absence. Gwen hums, neither in agreement or argument. Merlin leans against the wall, looking through the curtain blocking out the window. The warning bells, a sound I know too well for liking sounds out through the air of the night.

“They’re coming.”

Morgana shoots inside the house, Mordred by her side. Gwen brings over the pack, handing it to her.

“There’s enough food and water for three days.”

“Your horse is fed and watered. I’ll take you to it.”

“No,” she protests. “There’s no point in all of us risking our lives.”

“What about you?” I ask

“I’m the King’s ward. I’ll take my chances.”

“Morgana!” Gwen cries out.

“I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to any of you. We must go.”

“Goodbye, Emrys.”


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

“She’s been caught,” Merlin announces, walking into his room where I lay on his bed waiting for the news.

“Where are they?” I press, sitting up.

“Morgana just came out of a meeting with Uther. She’s fine but the King was mad. Mordred’s been locked up, under constant guard.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We have to do something. Anything.”

I move over, standing next to him as we look out his bedroom window, an executioner sharpening his axe. A morbid sight.

“I don’t want to watch him die, Merlin,” I whisper. Merlin looks at me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “He’s just a kid.”

“You won’t have to,” he says to me, bringing me into a much-needed embrace. “Let’s go see Arthur.”

We knock at the door, peeking through. Arthur sits at his table, Morgana by his side.

“Sorry. Are we interrupting something?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourselves with. Merlin, go do something useful, muck out my stables,” he orders.

“At night?” I mutter.

“No, I trust them both,” Morgana protests. Arthur motions for us to enter.

“We’re going to break the Druid boy out of the dungeons.”

“Didn’t think you had it in you, Sire,” I say, honestly surprised at the Prince’s willingness to disobey his father.

“My father wants to execute him at dawn. I don’t agree with his decisions.”

“The King already knows that Morgana is involved. If he catches you again, he’ll be unforgiving,” I warn Morgana.

“I’m not worried for myself.”

“Elena’s right. You need to be in a position where you can prove your innocence.”

“This is suicide,” Merlin argues but his voice is ignored.

“Dine with him. What better place to be in then with the King himself when the Druid escapes.”

“What about getting out of the castle, you’ll need help. I can’t do that if I’m with the king.”

“Merlin will take your place.”

“Me?”

“I'm going to take the boy out through the burial vaults. There's a tunnel that leads beyond the city walls. Get my horse from the stables and meet me there. There's a grate that covers the entrance to the tunnel. Bring a rope and a grappling hook to pull it off,” the Prince instructs.

“No-no, I can’t.”

“Merlin. Do you understand? If you’re not there to meet us, we’ll surely be caught.”

“I want to help as well. I can distract the guards if we need it.”

“No,” the Prince argues. “I can’t risk having you caught as well.”

“It won’t look like I’m smuggling a Druid boy out, I’ll stay in front of you. I’m a good actor,” I add, wanting to help do my part. Arthur looks hesitant but nods.

I race back to my chambers, changing into shoes that are soft and pliable, enough to not make sound when tapping against the floor. Then I head back up to Arthur’s chambers.

“Are you ready? You don’t have to do this,” he says, placing a hand on my arm. I shake my head.

“I’m going to help.”

I watch from above as Arthur drops a smoking bag down onto the guards who are watching over the Druid boy’s cell. They cough and splutter, falling to the ground unconscious. Arthur unlocks the cell, pulling Mordred from it. I look back up, signalling that it is safe for them. We just need to get to the burial vaults. Arthur and the Druid stay one turn behind me as I peek out into the corridors leading to the vaults. We are nearing the vault when I round a corner to see two guards patrolling. They are facing the way we need to go, at an agonisingly slow pace. Glancing back at the Prince I signal for him to wait while I enter the corridor, turning to the left, the opposite way that they are headed. Once I reach a far enough distance from the entry I begin my dramatic plan, thanking three years of high school drama.

“Agh!” I scream, falling to the floor. The guards turn around, seeing me, a helpless maiden crying on the ground. I clutch my ankle as though I’ve hurt it. “It hurts,” I cry. The guards jog over, bending down to inspect me.

“My lady, are you alright?” one of the two asks.

“No! I was trying to get back to my chambers after I took a wrong turn, I was lost and tripped over something,” I shrill. Arthur and the Druid boy silently come out of hiding, heading down the corridor I just cleared for them.

“We should take her to Gaius,” one says.

“But we need to patrol,” the other argues. I sit there, watching them argue as I sit supposedly in pain. “I won’t risk having the Druid escape and one of us not be out here.”

“We can’t leave her.”

“You take her. I’ll stay here.”

“Alright.”

Thank you tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. The guard helps me to my feet, helping bear the weight.

“Thank you so much,” I gush. “I don’t know what I would have done if you were not there.”

I walk with an exaggerated limp, enjoying my moment of drama. Thankfully, Gaius’ chamber is nearby. The guards knock loudly on the door. Gaius opens it, dressed in his nightwear.

“Whatever is the matter?” he asks groggily, wiping his eyes.

“This young maiden has hurt herself,” the guard informs, handing me over to Gaius who offers me his arm.

“Thank you, my knight!” I gush, batting my eyelids.

“As long as you are fine my lady, I shall go back to my duties,” he bows then walks away. I stand aghast looking at Gaius.

“What a little toad. He’s not a knight. I just said that so he would say something like ‘I’m not a knight’ and then I would say ‘but you are to me.’ I had the whole conversation planned in my head,” I exclaim at the rudeness of the man. “Now he’s going to think I’m stupid enough to think he’s a knight.”

“I assume you are not injured,” Gaius says, mouth pulled in a judgemental side glance.

“Nope. Just practising my acting,” I chirp. “I’m going to go wait in Merlin’s room.”

“Wait for what?”

“For Merlin…” I hesitate. “He went out for something.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Merlin’s in his room right now.”

My gaze snaps to his room, storming up there to see exactly what Gaius said. Merlin lays on his bed, head turned away from the window. He doesn’t even look at me as I enter.

“Merlin,” I whisper shout at him. “You’re supposed to be meeting Arthur.”

“I can’t do it,” he murmurs. I walk up to his side, kneeling down by his face. “The dragon told me that the boy will be Arthur’s undoing. I have to let him die.”

I don’t speak for a moment, biting my lip in thought. I wanted to save the child but would I put his life above Arthur’s? It’s not my choice to make. “If you think you are doing right then I will support you. But are you sure that he needs to die? Is there no other way?” I wish, not wanting to be responsible for either one’s death. Merlin shakes his head. “Okay,” I sigh, sinking down to lean against his bedside table. I reach up, brushing the hair from his face as a gesture of comfort, one I know he needs. Merlin needs to know he has people supporting him, no matter his decision.

“Emrys. Emrys. Where are you Emrys? Emrys. Help us. Please. They’re coming.” The Druid boy cries out to Merlin through telepathy. My stomach drops but I will not go unless Merlin says to. Merlin closes his eyes. “I’m scared, Emrys. They will kill me. Don’t do this. Don’t ignore me. I know you can hear me. I thought you were my friend. We’re the same. I don’t want to die. Emrys. Emrys. Emrys!”

I watch as his expression changes into frustration, then determination.

“Let’s go,” he says, grabbing the things he needs to bring which are on the floor in a corner.

We doge more guards, meeting Arthur at the spot.

“Hey!”

“Where the hell have you been?!” Arthur exclaims.

“Sorry, I found him trapped in by some guards,” I say, making an excuse for him, my acting skills on a role tonight. In the corner of my eye, I watch Mordred’s gaze narrow on Merlin.

“Well get this grate off, they’re coming.” Merlin does as instructed, pulling the whole grate off. “If my father asks where I am, I’ve gone on a hunting trip. You’d better make yourself scarce, or they’ll execute you in his place.”

“Goodbye, Emrys. I know that someday we will meet again.”

I grasp the warlock’s hand. “Come on,” I urge, running back to the castle. We pass guards and knights who are running out into the city. Even though we are nowhere near the place of interest for them, we make an effort to avoid being seen, not even risking the chance of our heads.

We come to the corridor where we would split ways, a lone guard patrolling through. We hide behind a pillar, waiting for him to go past but my foot slides, hitting a loose rock which irritatingly bounces, echoing off the walls. We are obviously in a hidden area; the guard would be suspicious immediately. Merlin and I stare at each other, hearing the guard’s footsteps come closer.

“Who’s there!” he calls out, just a few meters away. Merlin grabs me, turning me around so I’m against the pillar, placing his arms either side of me.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his lips connecting with my own. My eyes are wide in surprise but close as the guard turns the corner, weapon brandished. Merlin pulls away, feigning surprise.

“Oh!” I shriek, holding my chest with one hand, the other smoothing my hair. “We’re so sorry, we thought this corridor wasn’t being used.”

“We’ll leave now,” Merlin offers, taking my hand.

“Did you not hear the warning bells?” the guard demands, sheathing his weapon.

“Warning bells?” I ask, hoping I look ditsy. “That’s what they are.”

“Just go back to your chambers,” he commands. We scurry away.

“Nice thinking. People hate public romance,” I chortle, thinking back to the Captain America movie. “But let me know beforehand next time.”

“Next time?” Merlin laughs.

“With all the trouble you get me into, there will definitely be a next time,” I bellow. “Besides, we could start a castle rumour. The two servants with a secret love affair.”

“Not sure Sir Leon would like that,” Merlin counters, a smirk playing his lips.

“Leon?” I feign confusion.

“I’ve seen the way you to act around each other,” he teases.

“Go to bed Merlin,” I bark, shoving his shoulder. He laughs one more time, leaving me to go to my room. I lean against the door, touching my lips. Tomorrow would be our weekly dinner and I would have to face him again.

Waking up, I dress in my usual attire, and set out intending to find Arthur. He’s not at the training grounds from what I can see through the window so I set my destination at his quarters next. The castle, unlike yesterday, is calm, the normal routine of the guards and knights back in order. I haven’t heard of any news regarding the matter so I assume all went well but I would prefer to hear it from the Prince himself.

I knock on his door lightly.

“Enter,” the Prince announces. I push the door open, Arthur seated at his desk looking over paperwork as Merlin is making his bead and cleaning.

“Sire,” I greet.

“Elena,” the Prince smiles, looking up from his work. “To what do I owe the pleasure.”

“I just wanted to make sure for myself that everything went alright last night.”

Arthur stands from his desk, walking around the front to lean against it. “Everything went to plan. He is back with his people.”

“Thank you,” I croak.

“For what?” he questions, frowning.

“Doing what you thought was right, even if you were risking yourself for it. You’ll be a great King one day,” I tell him, my words true. Arthur bows his head.

“Thank you. Is there anything else you need?”

“No- actually. Is Leon still in charge of delegating the guards’ duties?”

“Yes. Why are you interested?” he prods.

“Oh, just have a favour to ask him.” I wink at the Prince who stares at me with his mouth open. I wave to Merlin, leaving the boys in peace.

The rest of my day I spent buying the fabric I need for Morgana’s new dress. The dress itself is going to be one of the most difficult things I’ve made but Gwen says to continue to challenge myself. At least if it is terrible, Morgana will not ridicule me. Too soon does the sun fall, meaning I would be heading to Torj’s room shortly. Maybe I just shouldn’t go. No, that’s rude. I have to face him anyway.

Grabbing fistfuls of air in front of me, I force myself out of my room.

“I hate myself,” I murmur on repeat all the way to his room. I don’t knock, as I never do when expected, just pushing the door open. All three knights sit around the table, dressed in plain shirts and pants.

“Here she is,” effuses Castor, holding up his drink. All three of them look to me, beaming, even Leon who is laughing at Castor’s childishness. I take my seat across from Castor, digging into the dinner with the others who join in. It seems the worry I felt coming here was pointless as Leon happily engages with me as we have always done.

“And then,” I exclaim, throwing my hands up. “She started screaming and threw the clothes back at me,” I grumble.

“That’s courtiers for you,” Leon replies, rolling his eyes.

“The Druid boy escaped last night. Wonder who done it?” Torj thinks aloud.

“Well whoever helped must be smart to evade all those guards,” I chirp, taking a sip of my drink.

“Or incredibly stupid,” Castor snorts. “They would have been executed on the spot.”

“But alas, they were smart. And did not get caught,” I argue, throwing a grape at the boy’s head.

“And where were you last night huh?” he prompts, leaning forward. “I didn’t see you go to your chambers last night.”

“First of all, are you spying on me? And second, I was out last night. I have alibies.” My voice is serious but the conversation is just a tease, they would never think I actually did it. “And on that note. Leon. I have a favour to ask you,” I propose, turning to face his chair which is next to mine.

“Hmm?” he leans forward, taking an interest.

“Well you see, I had an interaction with one of the guards last night that left me pretty salty and I know you’re in charge of them and-“

“Which one?” he interjects, frowning.

“One of the two patrolling down near the vault. The pig-nosed one,” I describe. “Can you put him with someone horrible. Just for the next month or so.”

“What did he do lass?” Torj inquires, letting out a short snort.

“I had a plan, he ruined it, and it made me look stupid,” I assert, a hint of sass poking through.

Leon grins. “Anything for you,” he says. His arm goes around onto the back of my chair. “I’ll put him with Fredrick.”

“No! I’ll be hearing about it for weeks,” Castor complains, sliding down in his chair. “He thinks I love hearing about every detail of his night shifts.”

“Deal with it,” I sass.

Castor begins another story, where he is conveniently a hero of but it becomes a blur, the only thing I can focus on is Leon’s fingers, brushing over my neck, swirling patterns on it. His thumb moving up to where my hair ends, massaging it. I sigh in content, smiling foolishly at Castor, enjoying my night because once again, all is well.

“I mean it,” he says, his mouth near my ear. “Anything.” He leans back into his chair, neither of the other two knights notice, to busy having a skulling competition.

I look at Leon, like really look at him. His eyes, the blonde curls handing around his face. The way his mouth turns up into a smile as he watches his best friends. Despite their presence, I lean forward, kissing him again. Only this time I don’t pull back like I did before. Leon reacts immediately, returning the kiss, his hands pulling me onto his lap. Torj and Castor, who have finished their competition, holler loudly behind me but I only smile more, pulling back to see his reaction. Leon opens his eyes, grinning.

“Elena!” Torj gasps. “Didn’t know you had it in you,” he cackles, leaning back in his chair. He leans so far back that his legs end up over his head on the ground. I roar with laughter, leaning into Leon for support whose laugh can also be heard in my ear.

This is perfect.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

This is so not perfect. I throw my scissors to the other side of the room, bouncing them off the wall. The pattern just doesn’t want to work, my fingers not obeying what my brain tells them to do. I’ve haven’t been this frustrated since Arthur practically handed me his whole wardrobe to fix overnight.

“I hate you,” I growl to the fabric, shaking it in the air.

I gaze around my room to see if I have anything to take my mind off sewing. My room is quite bare, however, minus a few trinkets I’ve collected. My eyes fix on the bow and empty quiver in the corner. I haven’t used it in a few weeks, not really having a purpose too. I haven’t joined in on a hunt since the time I met Merlin, both being too busy with helping saving lives and fear of travelling back outside the city too far. Just a few weeks ago, Merlin had created a sword for Arthur, forged in dragon’s fire to kill the living dead; something I didn’t know was possible even through magic. Apparently, somebody had a grievance against Uther Pendragon, which I found incredibly hard to believe (note my sarcasm.) Merlin had tossed the sword in the Lake of Avalon, a great disappointment as even by my standards, as someone who knows nothing about swords, it was a great make. Torj has nearly taken the Black Knight’s challenge but Arthur had raised his own challenge before he could step forward.

I leave my chambers, heading to the library.

“Good morning Geoffry,” I greet.

“Good Morning, Elena. May I help you with something?” The man had already been a great help before, a kind man.

“No, I’m fine. I know where I’m looking.”

And thanks to Merlin and the undead man, I know where books kept on creatures of the Old Religion and I am hoping to come across a book that could give me anything more on being a Vessel. So far I already knew that when I am close by, it magnified Merlin’s magic. But then there was the other time, where it stung, Merlin on the other side of the castle. I make a mental note to ask him about it.

I run my hands along the book bindings, collecting dust.

“So I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want. So tell me what you want what you really really want,” I sing under my breath, reading the titles. I often have found myself singing catchy pop songs when I’m alone. I did miss music at times such as this when I don’t have thoughts about death occupying my mind. A book, old brown leather covering titled ‘The High Priestess and their Blood Oaths’ catches my interest. I pull the book from the shelf, setting it against a table. I have always struggled to read the writing here, my eyes not accustomed to reading heavy ink and the style.

I flip through the pages, scanning their titles. I flip almost to the end of the book, my hope dwindling but a large heading stops me. ‘Vessels.’ I sit down, reading through the chapter. It says mostly what the dragon had told me, but gives greater detail into the process. Pictorial diagrams describe the flow of energy from the earth, the energy light and vast which is then drawn into the Vessel. It continues so the energy flows out to the Priestess but unlike before it reaches the Vessel, the energy is dense and direct. That’s how it becomes so much more powerful.

The next paragraph goes on to warn against physical distance, just as the dragon said ‘distance is no friend’. The connection needs to be nurtured and trained to be able to withstand it.

“In the energy transfer process, the Vessel itself may be forced to sacrifice its own to be able to accommodate a large distance between itself and their Meistr,” I read. “Lovely.” Maybe that’s what the stinging was. There is more information concerning the capabilities, including two pages which describe how a Vessel can take on the wounds of the Meistr and if the Meistr is to perish than the Vessel does as well. I want to bring Merlin this book but I don’t want him to know about that just yet. He doesn’t need another thing to worry about.

I glance around, making sure Geoffry isn’t nearby and rip the two pages out, tucking them into my dress. I close the book, hiding the title under my arms and leave the library while he is distracted.

I venture down to Gaius’ quarters to give Merlin the book, the pull telling me he is there. I knock lightly, pushing the door open. I have spent many hours here with the both of them, eating dinner and conversing with them over our new problems of the week. It is like my second home. Gaius isn’t here but I can hear Merlin scrambling around in his room. I walk up the stairs, pushing his door open which isn’t closed all the way.

Merlin grabbing things from his desk, shoving them in a leather bag.

“Where are you going?” I ask, astounded that he hasn’t told me yet.

Noticing my presence for the first time he stands back up straight.

“Elena. I –I have to go home. To Ealdor,” he says, picking something up off the floor.

“Why?” I ask incredulously. 

“My mother, there are these men terrorising the village. I have to help.”

“When will you be back?”

Merlin shakes his head, looking down. “I can’t. She’s my mother. And I feel horrible for asking but do you want to come with me?” he asks, puppy dog eyes locking with mine. “This whole connection thing – we both feel it. We have this need to be with each other. I know your home is here, but I have to go.”

He didn’t plan on coming back? “Merlin, I can’t go. I’m sorry, but you’re right. This is my home.” And Ealdor is so far away. It Cenred’s kingdom, too close to where we were attacked. The thought of travelling back out there makes my legs weak. But then, what if Merlin uses his magic? What would that mean for the both of us?

“I understand,” he nods slowly. “Hopefully it won’t really affect us. What have you got there?” he motions to the book. I realise that he doesn’t really know the meaning of the distance in this oath, and he didn’t know how it felt when he cast magic not near me. But I couldn’t bring myself to make him feel guilty for leaving. I will deal with it, I can learn. This could be a way to test it out, see if it really makes a difference for him.

“Oh, this?” I ask, feigning lack of importance. “Just a bit of reading I picked up from the library. When do you leave?”

“In a few minutes. I was going to find you after I finished packing.”

“Okay,” I whisper. “Come back and visit won’t you?”

Merlin smiles, bringing me into a tight hug. “Of course, can’t let you deal with Arthur on your own all the time.”

He releases me, going back to his packing. I stay with him, leaning against the door frame not wanting to say goodbye. Eventually, Merlin does, hugging me one last time before he goes out to say goodbye to Gaius.

“You got the food I prepared for you?” Gaius peppers.

“Yes.”

“Be careful with the wine. You know what you’re like. One whiff of a barmaid’s apron and you’re singing like a sailor.”

“Why haven’t I seen that yet?” I tease.

“I’ll be fine,” he says, giving me a stink eye.

“Are you sure you don’t want an extra blanket?”

“It’s okay, really. I’ll be alright.”

“Well, make sure you are. Do whatever it takes.”

They hug, like a father saying goodbye to a child. I wave goodbye, watching him leave out the door. The pull already becoming stronger with each step he takes, a feeling I know he experiences too. My throat tightens and my eyes sting. Gaius gives me a sympathetic look, walking over to me, embracing me in a hug.

“It’s ok my dear,” he comforts, patting my hair.

I sob into his robe, ugly blubber of snot and tears mixing as I cling to him. I cry so much my sobs turn into dry heaves. “I don’t want him to go,” I sniffle. “Also, I need to tell you something that I found out.”

We sit down at his table and I pull out the book. I recount the events of the past month not leaving out any details. I need his advice, his fatherly support. I give him the pages I ripped out, warning him that Merlin doesn’t know. I try to describe the feeling of the mark, the few times it’s happened. I also divulge me anxiety that Merlin isn’t going to be near and what that means for both of us.

Gaius admits to knowing the stories of Vessels but like both the book and dragon, his information is limited.

“But I don’t know how to, nothing can tell me what I need to do,” I exclaim tearing my hands through my hair as we discuss Vessels healing their Meistr. “And I don’t want to ask Merlin because I know him. He’ll hate that he’s responsible for me as well now.”

“Why don’t you go rest in your chambers for a while, let yourself breath,” he insists. I nod, thanking him for everything. I hold the book to my chest, slowly walking along the stone path back to my corridor. I do as Gaius said, lying down on my bed, hugging my pillow. The pull feels stronger than ever now, and I don’t know how I will sleep. 

I pick my sewing back up in an effort to distract myself which it does for a while, the sheer frustration of the fabric pulling thoughts of Merlin out of my mind. The sun begins to lower, my room darkening when it becomes too much. I drop the fabric on the table, breathing heavily and bending over. My stomach gurgles and I try to calm myself, feeling like I’m about to vomit.

“I...I can’t,” I cry out.

I have to go, even if I am scared of travelling so far, the pull overrides it, becoming my natural instinct. That feeling you get in your gut when you know somethings wrong. I shove my stuff away, changing into pants and a blouse. I go to leave, doubling back to get my bow and quiver.

I need the armoury for arrows, and then I would take a horse. I know the path well enough to Ealdor, I had passed it many times but never took it. I enter the armoury, scanning the room for the arrow stock but the Prince’s presence surprises me.

“Sire,” I greet. He is dressed in chainmail, tightening his armour. “What are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he counters, eyes gesturing to my bow. “But I think we both know the answer.”

“Merlin.”

He nods. “He’s been a good friend, it’s the least I can do for him.”

“I’m coming.”

“Very well.”

Third Person POV

Merlin sits on a log next to his mother.

“They shouldn’t be here. Especially the Lady Morgana. Isn’t she the King’s ward?” his mother worries.

“Not that you’d know it. She’s the only person I know who isn’t frightened of him.”

“It won’t make any difference to Kanen that they’re women.”

“I know. But I couldn’t talk them out of coming.” He eyes the bruise on his mother’s face with discontent. “I want to make him pay for what he did to you.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful. No one can find out about you.”

“They won’t. They never do,” he assures, his mother not needing to know somebody already did besides Gaius.

“Get some rest,” she instructs, going to lay down herself.

Merlin smiles at her but it falls into a frown as she moves out of sight. His gut feels unsettled, on the surface, he believes it just nervous for his mother and home but deep down he knows that the blame rests with the connection to Elena. It feels as though his link to magic is weak. Is this what Kilgharrah meant?

He picks up a stick from the fire, the end burning embers. He blows on the end, embers floating into the air.

“Draca,” he whispers, eyes flashing gold. Instead of feeling powerful, his body strains, a feeling he has never associated with magic before. It had always come so naturally to him yet right now it is as though he is learning it from the beginning. The embers take the shape of a dragon but float away soon after, nowhere near as simple as it should be.

The distance weakened his link, weakening his magic in return. He exhales, both in frustration and exhaustion. Merlin doesn’t want to rely on Elena for his magic but it is addicting when she is near, like a power high and now he’s experiencing withdrawal. He’s weak. He debates internally whether he should have left Camelot, knowing the girl probably feels something similar but he glances over to his mother and he is certain he is doing the right thing.

Elena’s POV.

Arthur and I gallop on our horses, bow on my back instead of the saddle. As we ride, my arm begins to burn terribly but ignore it, heading closer and closer to him by the minute, blinking away tiredness. We settle into a trot, the sky dark and well into the night. It only takes us a few hours before we see a makeshift settlement, four horses tide up. Arthur gestures for me to keep quiet, dismounting from his horse. I silently slide off mine as well, watching the Prince approach the camp with his sword drawn. The sense of fulfilment, one I hadn’t felt since Merlin left comes back to me and I know for sure he is here.

Arthur holds his sword up to Merlin’s neck who wields his own.

“I’d ask you for money, but I know you don’t have any,” he taunts.

“Arthur!” Merlin exclaims, spinning around with the sword in his hand, nearly taking off the Prince’s head if he did not duck.

“Put the sword down, Merlin. You look ridiculous.”

“Yes, you’re much better with a mop,” I preach, walking out of the shadows.

“Elena! You too,” Merlin beams.

“I thought that I could get some bow practice in,” I shrug.

The three of us sit by a newly lit fire, warming our hands. I wait till Arthur goes to bed to talk to Merlin, sure that everybody else is sleeping.

“Merlin. When you left, it felt horrible. Like I was going to be sick,” I tell him hushed in tone. “I felt you use magic earlier, my arm burned. I don’t think we can be physically apart for long. I found a book, it said that we could train to get better. The best could be on the other side of the world and still feel the Vessel’s help.”

“I know. I did a simple spell. Something I’ve known all my life but it was hard, like I had to force my mind to perform it.” He holds his hand out into the fire. “Draca.” Warmth fills the mark; a beautiful image of a dragon appears in the flame, flying around. “That felt incredible.”

“I felt it too.”

The next morning, we wake up early to the sun, Gwen and Morgana only just realising Arthur and mine’s arrival. We set out riding early, my bow again placed on my back. I have my usual knife lodged in my boot.

We take the path to Ealdor, a territory now unknown to me but soon the small village becomes visible through the trees. We ride in, unnoticed as the villagers are focused on one man, a dark-haired barbarian who is yelling at a man on the ground.

“That’s Kanen,” Hunith, Merlin’s mother says. “He’s going to kill Matthew.”

“Not if can help it,” I growl, removing my bow, knocking an arrow. Kanen raises his axe to make a final blow onto Matthew and I release the bow, the arrow which sinks into the post next to his head. “That’s a warning!” I yell to him, in full view. Arthur dismounts, pulling out his sword as Kanen goes to make a swing at me, blocking the hit. The rest of us dismount as well, brandishing their swords while I load another arrow.

“Kill them!” Kanen shrieks, his men engaging in combat. I pull the string back, aiming for one of the men on horseback. My arrow lodges in his leg. Not a fatal hit but enough to knock him out of the fight. A man dressed in animal skin runs up to me, his sword high. I duck down to avoid his swing, grabbing my knife at the same time. His momentum sends him forward as I twirl past him, digging my elbow backwards to send him down. While he is unbalanced, I shove my knife into him. My mark warms, alerting me that Merlin cast a spell. I scan the environment, making sure my friends are holding their own. Kanen and his men are outnumbered, unprepared to fight today, Merlin alive and well.

“You’ll pay for this with your lives. All of you!”

“Haven’t heard that one before!” I yell at him as he rides away on horseback with one other man. Merlin stands with a farmer’s boy, acting like old friends and I realise they probably are. Merlin grew up here. Arthur calls for the villagers to address them.

“I know Kanen’s kind. He’ll be back. And when he is, you must be ready for him. First of all, we have to prepare for-“

“Am I the only one wondering who the hell this is?” The farmer’s boy interrupts.

“You’re speaking to the man who may have just saved your damn life, and if you need to put a name to it, it’s Prince Arthur of Camelot,” I snarl at him.

“And I’m Prince William of Ealdor,” he sneers, glaring at me.

“Well you’re not doing a good job at it then are you,” I scowl, putting my bow on my back.

“Kanen will be back, and when he is, he’ll be looking for revenge. You’ve just signed our death warrants.”

“Your death warrant was already signed before we got here!” I snap, striding up to the boy but a hand stops me, one belonging to the Prince. His hand stays, holding my wrist in s subtle warning to stand down.

“That’s alright Elena. This is your village. What would you have us do?” Arthur questions, not angry at the boy’s earlier remarks, which just makes me admire him more. This is my future King.

“We can’t fight against Kanen. He has too many men.”

“So what’s the alternative?”

“Give him what he wants.”

I hold back another snide comment, Arthur’s hand tightening. The rest of the village seems to agree with me, shaking their heads.

“Then what? Those of you who don’t starve to death will face him again next harvest. And the harvest after that.”

“We’ll manage. We’ll survive.”

“In constant fear. How can you survive if he takes everything you have?” I plead to reason.

“The only way he can be stopped is if you stand up to him.”

“No. You just want the honour and glory of battle! That’s what drives men like you. Look, if you want to fight then go home and risk the lives of your own people, not ours,” he snaps, storming away.

“Will!” Merlin calls.

“I’ll follow you. If I’m to die, then I want to go out fighting.” Hunith steps forward, a determined face washing over her.

“That goes for me too,” Matthew stands forward.

The villagers one by one stand forward, declaring their commitment.

I sit with Arthur as we begin to settle for the night, eating plain stew out of a wooden bowl. The Prince doesn’t say much, just swirling around his food with the spoon. It’s obvious that Will’s words got to him.

“Nobody that knows you well, believes that,” I say.

“What do you mean?”

“Will. If you were only fighting for the glory you would not come to fight some barbaric bandits attacking an outlying village in a kingdom that is not even in Camelot. I’ve told you before but I’ll tell you again. You’ll make a great King.”

Arthur lets out a short laugh. “You have quite the mouth on you, didn’t think you were so eager to defend my honour as a Prince,” he comments, smiling lightly. “I have distinct memories of you calling me an idiot and swine.”

“I wasn’t defending your honour as a Prince,” I tell him. “But as a friend. You are still both of those things but it just adds to your charm,” I giggle.

“My charm?” he snorts.

“Yes, your charm. Didn’t think you had girls swooning at your feet because of you intelligence did you?” I tease. Arthur scoffs, pushing me off my seat. I land on the ground in laughter, enjoying time with the Prince. 

“At least I have charm, you lack any sort of enticement,” he jeers as I join him back on the log.

“And here I thought I had the Prince falling for me,” I cry, a hand against my forehead, leaning dramatically on his shoulder. “How will I ever live now?” Arthur’s hand wraps around my neck, trapping my head to his stomach. He rubs my head roughly, messing my hair. “My hair!” I shriek my words mixing with Arthur. I manage to push him away, landing on the ground by his legs.

“From what I hear, you don’t need me. You have Leon wrapped around your finger,” he comments.

“I sure do,” I admit with confidence. “And do that again I’ll make sure he kicks your arse at your next training session.”

“Please,” he scoffs. “I could beat him with my eyes closed.”

“I don’t know, he’s one of the best in Camelot,” I counter. We bicker for a while longer till Merlin calls us over to show us our beds which are blankets on the ground. I sigh, used to my plush bed but I hold my tongue knowing that Hunith has provided us which so much already.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

“I won't be able to teach you everything there is to know about fighting with a sword, but you can learn the basics: the stance, how to parry a blow, how to land your own. On my count! One! Two! Three! Four! Now, you may have to watch for the feint. So, keep your feet moving, and only stay in range long enough to land your blow. And again. One! Two! Three! Four!”

Arthur teaches the village men the basics of sword fighting. Gwen and Morgana sharpen swords while I forage around for anything we could use to help.

“One! Two! Three! Four” Arthur commands, the men going back and forth with the taught movements, using wooden sticks as swords. Watching them makes my heart yearn for Leon, imagining him training with an actual sword, dressed in his chainmail. I can’t believe that I’m friends with knights. Hell- I’ve kissed a knight, twice! I feel guilty knowing that I didn’t get a chance to tell him where I went and that they might have no idea I’m with Arthur and Merlin. Although Gwen and Morgana are here as well so they may put two and two together. I’m proud of him.

“There is no way they’re going to be able to hold Kanen off,” Morgana says, looking at the village people with doubt.

“Men aren’t the only ones who can fight,” Gwen replies.

“Wait. Was Arthur expecting us to hang back?” I question rhetorically, smirking at the two girls.

I open a barrel a liquid substance in it. I dip my fingers in, immediately retracting them as I feel the familiar gooeyness of oil. We could use this.

“Hey, Arthur!” I call out. He leaves the men to practice their routine, jogging over to me. “Check this out,” I instruct, holding out my fingers where the oil still sticks too.

“Oil?”

“Soak sticks in it and it will go up like that,” I exclaim, emphasising my words with my mouth making a popping sound.

“Good thinking. We could encircle them, scare their horses,” he thinks aloud, scratching his chin. “I’ll leave you in charge of that.”

Arthur spends the rest of the day training his men while I collect anything that could be burned easily, using a borrowed apron, putting them into a pile near Hunith’s house and Gwen and Morgana make do with the materials they have to make enough swords for the people. I watch them from afar, and to be honest, they are worse than a beginner knight but they have courage and determination which can take down foes those who are unprepared for it. Once night falls, I have enough material to encircle the inner part of the village and I settle down next to Merlin near a fire pit.

“Maybe we should have bought a few knights, ones that weren’t dressed in their cloaks to help,” I murmur, thinking about the people back in Camelot.

“I couldn’t ask more people to risk their lives,” Merlin replies, looking at his hands. Merlin had informed me that his mother had come to Camelot to plead to Uther for assistance but he refused under the reasoning that Ealdor lies in Cenred’s land and to send knights would be an act of war. And for once, I agreed that Uther had made the right decision, however hard it must be for Ealdor. But I am even happier to be here, my fear of travelling gone. I hadn’t even thought about it, too focused on the current events.

“They would have come if Arthur had asked them to, under the guise of normal men. It’s what they do. But the King is their leader.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, looking at me, the fire casting dancing shadows over his face.

“I’m glad I’m here too.”

“We’re not going to be able to defend Ealdor with sword and sinew alone. We’re going to need a plan. We need to find some way of limiting their mobility and drawing them into a trap. If we fight them on their terms, then we have no chance,” Arthur says, speaking to a group of us.

“I have the oil and sticks. Just give me a day and I can create a ring but we need to get them into it first-“ I’m cut off by a woman’s screams. We sprint outside, readying to draw weapons. However, there is no enemy, only a man lying dead over a horse, an arrow in his back.

“Get him down from there!” Arthur commands. The villagers take Matthew down and we see a paper connected to the arrow. Arthur tears it off, reading it to himself.

“What does it say?” Merlin inquires.

“Make the most of this day, it will be your last.”

“Dramatic,” I mutter. “And cliché.”

Matthew’s finance cries out, hugging the body to her chest. I don’t even try to imagine myself in her situation.

“You did this! Look what you’ve done!” Will shrieks, pointing to the dead man. I hold back a groan, sick of his whinging. “You’ve killed him.”

“No! Kanen killed him, just like he will kill you. Only this man died fighting for what he believed in but you will die a coward!” I scream at him, my face burning in anger and spit flew from my mouth. “I am sick and tired of you bagging out Arthur when he is doing everything he can for you. He disobeyed his father – the King to help his friend and this village. You think they don’t have a chance? They didn’t have a chance to survive through next winter till we arrived!” I breathe heavily, standing right in front of the boy who seethes.

I don’t think he will react for a moment but his hand flies backwards, and then comes forward, punching me square in the jaw. Not expecting the hit, my face flies to the side, the force sending me to the ground. I spit out the dirt I just swallowed, pushing myself up from the ground before anybody can touch me. Arthur moves to stand in front of me, pushing the boy away. Will storms off, Merlin giving me an apologetic look before following his friend. My hand cups my jaw, touching it to test where it’s sore. The whole thing is tender, a certain bruise already forming.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asks, turning around, crouching down to my height.

“I’m fine,” I spit, standing back up. “Boy’s got a mean punch. We could use that.”

“We could,” he agrees, reaching out to inspect my jaw himself. “That’ll hurt for a while but considering you are still speaking you’ll be fine.”

“I wish that happened in a bar,” I grunt, walking away to get a shovel.

“Why’s that?” the Prince asks, following me.

“Because then I would have a bar fight story. Now it’s just a village boy.” Arthur laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Only you Elena. Only you.”

I spend the day digging a small moat, talking with the other villagers or are building a makeshift draw bridge. I spent an hour or so, dipping the sticks in the oil the spreading them through the moat, leading to a hidden garden where it could be lit from safety. Night comes quickly again, Arthur calling a meeting for everybody.

“Tomorrow morning, the women and children shoulder gather what belongings they can carry and go to the woods.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Gwen counters.

“I know you want to help. The women can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”

“At this point, they have just as much training as the men here,” I add.

“They have as much right to fight for their lives as the men do!” Gwen continues. “The more of us there are, the better chance we stand.”

The women of the village stand forward and their courage makes me proud to be a woman. They have strength, one I wasn’t sure women of this time would ever display but they continue to prove me wrong. Prove to me that I wasn’t born different to them, they just had never been given the chances I have to show it.

“This is your home. If you want to fight to defend it, that's your choice. I'd be honoured to stand alongside you. Kanen attacks tomorrow. Kanen's brutal. He fights only to kill, which is why he will never defeat us. Look around. In this circle, we're all equals. You're not fighting because someone's ordering you to, you're fighting for so much more than that. You fight for your homes. You fight for your family. You fight for your friends. You fight for the right to grow crops in peace. And if you fall, you fall fighting for the noblest of causes: fighting for your very right to survive! And when you're old and grey, you'll look back on this day, and you'll know you earned the right to live every day in between! So you fight! For your family! For your friends! For Ealdor!”

The villagers raise their swords, chanting for their home. I hear Merlin next to me, one of the loudest.

“For Ealdor!” I chant louder than him. He smiles at me, chanting even louder and we go back and forth outdoing each other, my jaw hurting but I embrace the pain.

I go back to Hunith’s intending to sleep. Merlin sits down next to me where he sleeps in-between Arthur and me.

“I don’t think your friend likes me,” I muse, fingers drifting over my jaw.

“He doesn’t like you either,” he laughs. “He couldn’t believe I could be friends with such a ‘stuck up bootlicker’, as he called you.”

“Bootlicker!” I exclaim. “Alright, that’s it,” I say, playfully getting up as though I am going after him. Merlin laughs, grabbing onto my hand before I can move past him, pulling me back down to the ground. I land perpendicular to him, my head resting on his stomach giggling.

“I am sorry about him. He’s always been a trouble maker,” the warlock says, sobering up, a hand brushing through my hair. I yawn, the movement sending me to sleep.

“It’s ok. I deserved it but he needed to hear what I said. It was a mutual engagement.”

“If you say so,” he chortles. I stare at the roof, avoiding thinking about tomorrow.

“I miss him,” I mumble, head turning to look at Merlin who has his head propped up on a bag.

“Leon?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “But also Torj, Gaius, that one courtier that hates me. I miss the daily insults,” I ramble.

“What about that other knight you’re always with?”

“Castor? Nah, I don’t miss him. He talks so much I can practically hear him right now. It’s like having my own personal mini Castor in my head.”

We settle down, not talking as I begin to fall asleep, not bothered enough to move back to my spot. Arthur comes in shortly.

“Move your feet,” he says, kicking them lightly. I pull them towards me but as soon as Arthur lies back down, I spread them back out, over his thighs. “Really?” he deadpans.

“Really,” I whisper back, already half asleep and sure that Merlin is dead to the world already. Gwen had warned me but I am not prepared for Arthur’s snores. The past two nights had been fine, but tonight it is like sleeping next to a constant alarm clock that nobody would buy.

I wake up to having my feet shoved backwards by Arthur, nearly hitting Merlin in the face.

“Sorry, “I grumble to the warlock, wiping my eyes. My neck has a kink in it and I bend my head trying to get rid of it but I end up just irritating my jaw which is slowly pulsing. “Ow.”

“Rough night?” Merlin asks, teasing about my choice of sleeping arrangement.

“You’re all skin a bone so yes.” He gives me a stink eye but he doesn’t argue with my assessment. “Come on, you two should get ready and in your armour,” I tell him, patting his knee.

“You don’t have any armour?” Merlin asks with a hint of concern.

“Neither do half the people here,” I counter, pulling on my shoes and stuffing the dagger in them. “Besides, I’m using my bow and hopefully I won’t need to be up close.”

“Is the fire pit all set up?” Arthur asks, picking up his sword, swinging it around in the air.

“Yeah. Morgana is going to be in position to light it.”

“Where will you be?”

“Hidden on the roof,” I smirk, picking up my bow. One side of Arthur’s mouth tweaks up and I can tell that even though he doesn’t completely agree with the women joining, he’s glad to have them by his side and the majority of people supporting him. To say I am nervous would be a slight understatement. My hands jitter and my feet can’t stay still, constantly wiggling my toes. Tightening my leather belt and pulling my hair into a ponytail I’m already ready for the day, nothing else to do but sit and wait.

I meet Morgana and Gwen, passing our good lucks to each other and double-check everything is in order. The drawbridge is covered enough and the ropes are tied securely. I make sure that Morgana has the flint to light it up.

The villagers hustle around, even more nervous than me. It dawns on me that today could be my death and that I might never see my friends again. Laughing faces of the knights pass by my eyes, even those of the people here with me. Some of the people are not going to be alive.

Letting out a shuddering breath, I hug Merlin who is dressed in chainmail that looks odd on him after seeing it on the knights. Arthur pats my shoulder and I nod to the both of them silently, holding my bow tight to my chest.

Some men, including Merlin and Gwen, line up behind a house, a lookout alerting the village that Kanen is near. Using some barrels, I climb onto a straw roof up to its peak. The straw is hard to grip but provides enough friction that I don’t slide. I lay against it, loading my bow to be prepared. From my viewpoint, when I sit up I can see directly where Kanen’s crew will be encircled, giving me a clear advantaged. I would have to move once the villagers come out, not wanting to risk hitting them.

Kanen’s men come into view from out of the forest. More than he had on the day we met him. His number outweighs our own but we had the strategic advantage and the element of surprise. The men ride into the village, looking around at the empty place.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” he taunts. They look around, still mounted with their weapons ready. I move up a little pulling my bow over the ridge of the roof but hold my shot until everything is in place.

The drawbridge is pulled up by Gwen and another villager and Morgana should light the oil moat any second. The men realise something is up and become ferocious in their search. Morgana still hasn’t lit the fire and I realise something must be wrong.

“There’s one. Get him!” Kanen yells, pointing to someone running behind some houses. I recognise it as Merlin, one of the only people in chainmail. One of the riders shoots an arrow at him but he narrowly doges it. I pull back the drawstring, aiming at the rider with a crossbow. The rider shoots another arrow at Merlin, only missing by a few inches. I desperately want to let my own arrow go but I know I have to wait until that fire is lit.

My mark burns, the warmth flooding it and I know Merlin has lit the fire. As predicted, a fire encircles the men who are forced to remain in the village centre. I let my arrow fly, hitting my target dead-on, who falls to the ground.

“Now!” I hear Arthur command, the village people giving a battle cry as they appear from their hiding spots. I nock another arrow, shooting at a man who is about to attack an unsuspecting Arthur before the scene is a mix of people. The only way I can identify who is who from here is that Kanen’s men mostly remain on their horses but they won’t for long. Jumping onto the other side of the ridge I prepare another arrow and slide down the roof feet first. Just before I reach the bottom I aim at another barbarian, hitting his back then I fall off the side of the roof, tumbling as I reach the ground.

I pull my dagger out with my free hand, aiming for the men who aren’t looking at me but are attacking other women. I am not fighting for honour, I’m fighting for my life and I have no intentions to avoid playing dirty. No point being clean if it means you’re in the dirt anyways. 

I sword comes directly at me, sweeping sideways. I duck under it, stabbing the person in the foot. The man cries out, falling to the ground to clutch his foot. A wound in the foot could send pain all the way up to the hip.

My mark burns for a second time, a tug at my body as the energy flows through it. It’s more intense than I’ve ever felt so far. Again, it’s not painful but I can only describe it as getting shocked without the pain. You feel the current going through you. I look around for Merlin, seeing him stand with Will. A large wind storm forms and begins to move through the village.

Taking advantage of my distracted nature, a man comes forth, swinging his sword down at me head. I see it in the corner of my eye and lean backwards. The blade catches my skin on my face, starting at my forehead, over the top part of my nose and onto my right cheek. It stings but I can’t focus on it, the man bringing up his sword to swing again.

The wind comes our way, my hair blowing around as the man is sucked up by it, thrown away into a cart effectively knocking him out. It circles throughout the area, scaring Kanens men who back up. Unlike his followers, Kanen only becomes more enraged, aiming for Arthur.

They fight like a dance, going back and forth between offence and defence. At one point, the Prince manages to knock away Kanen’s sword but he pulls another from a dead man’s body. I debate just shooting the man but with their moves, he could easily sidestep and have Arthur take the hit, intentionally or not. Arthur wins, striking his to his knees.

I let out a gasp of relief, knowing I could live to see another day. Blood drips down my face but it makes me feel battle-worn, a scar I have earned. 

“Who did that?” Arthur cries out, pointing to both Will and Merlin.

“What?” Merlin asks incredulously.

“Wind like that doesn’t just appear from nowhere,” he accuses. “I know magic when I see it. One of you made that happen.”

“Arthur…” Merlin begins.

“No!” I cry stepping forward. I couldn’t let him take the blame. Arthur would banish him at best. Although the Prince is growing he is still buried in the prejudice his father fed him and that’s something that can be almost impossible to overcome in one’s lifetime, let alone the barely year Merlin and Arthur have known each other.

“Look out!” Will cries, stepping forward, shoving Arthur out of the way. An arrow lodges in his chest, right above his heart. I nock an arrow, shooting at Kanen who had come into contact with a crossbow. My arrow lands in his head, killing him in the barbaric way he lived.

“Will!” Merlin calls, landing on his knees in front of him.

“You just saved my life,” Arthur says, not quite believing the moment.

“Yeah,” the boy grunts. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Come on! Get him inside.”

A sombre turn to a victorious day. A handful of men bring the boy inside, laying him on a table. I and everyone knew that there is no chance in saving the boy, he would die in minutes but at least he knows he will die a hero, even if he didn’t want to in the beginning.

“That’s twice I’ve saved you,” he says to the Prince.

“Twice?”

“Yeah, it was me. I’m the one that used the magic.” It is now that I truly appreciate what a good friend he is to Merlin, just like me he is willing to do anything for him. And as rude as it sounds, may as well take the blame now that he’s on his death bed.

“Will, don’t” Merlin tries to warn.

“It’s alright, Merlin. I won’t be alive long enough for anyone to do anything to me. I did it. I saw how desperate things were becoming and I had to do something.”

“You’re a sorcerer?”

“Yeah,” he grunts. “What are you gonna do? Kill me?”

“No. Of course not. Do what you can for him.” Merlin nods, Arthur, giving Will one last acknowledgment leaves him to rest. I take this at my moment to speak to the boy one last time.

“So, I’m a bootlicker hey?” I joke, giving him a kind smile. “I’m sorry Will. I was wrong about you.” Will gives a strained smile, even managing a small laugh.

“I’m sorry too. Arthur… he’s a good man, and you helped me see that” he says. “Even if you still are a bootlicker,” he taunts. If he weren't about to die I would be punching him right now, but I laugh instead, nodding in agreement. I squeeze his shoulders, leaving him with Merlin for his final moments.

We leave this afternoon, Merlin deciding to re-join us back in Camelot, a decision that made me immensely glad as I don’t know how I could physically handle being separated just yet. On the ride back I think about how we can train this and a few ideas form, but I will wait till Merlin and I are alone or with Gaius to discuss it. Gwen cleaned my face, telling me it would need stitches, but it would have to wait till Gaius.

“It’s going to scar,” she says, wincing at it. I laugh, shaking my head.

“I hope so. My first battle wound,” I chortle. “You got any battle wounds, Arthur?”

“Do I have any battle wounds?” he scoffs. I spend the next hour sitting next to him by a fire as he describes a detailed story between every single scar he has. When he finally shut-ups (Okay, his stories are actually interesting) and the girls are asleep I sit near Merlin.

“I’m glad you’re coming home,” I hush to him.

“I’m glad too. I’m going to miss her but Camelot is where I belong.”

I lean my head on his shoulder, his arm going around mine, leaning back against a fallen log and staring into the fire.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

“Well, the good news is, is that Gwen is a much better physician than Merlin,” Gaius assess, cleaning to wound again to get ready for stitches.

“Trust me,” I smirk at Merlin. “I didn’t let him even touch it.”

“I was just trying to be a good friend,” he quips in defence, watching me from the table, eating his dinner. I snicker, rolling my eyes. “What excuse did Arthur give for leaving? I doubt Uther wouldn’t notice both his son and ward missing.”

“Apparently he told some of his men that he was on a hunting trip, they assumed Elena was with him.”

“What about Morgana?” I chip in.

“She never told anybody she left. She’s likely speaking with him now on the matter.”

Gaius moves away, putting the rag down in the water bowl. He shuffles through his supplies, pulling out a sharp needle and silk thread. I’d never had stitches and I always thought that if I did, I would be giving some sort of happy gas but this is going to be un-drugged and on my face. I swallow thickly, unconsciously leaning backwards.

The door to the quarters opens without a sign on knocking first. A blonde man in chainmail with a red cloak to match striding through, a determined look set on his face.

“Leon!” I cry, jumping from the bed. I jog up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His hands wrap around my waist, lifting me slightly from the ground, his head resting in my neck. “I’ve missed you,” I mumble.

“Arthur told me before he left where he was going but I didn’t know you went to,” he chides, pulling back from me. “You could’ve told me where you were going. Nobody could find you.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on going but I changed my mind last second and caught up with him just before he left,” I rattle, squishing my brows together as I strain my neck to look up at him.

“What happened to your face?” he asks, brushings his fingers around it.

“My first battle wound,” I beam.

“Your first battle wound I still need to stitch,” Gaius calls, waiting near where I sit. Grabbing Leon’s hand I drag him over to sit back down and he stands behind me, hands going to rest around my stomach. “I should be teaching you this Merlin but I might wait till we have a wound that’s not on the face. We want precision for less scaring,” he says to the warlock.

“I don’t mind,” I chirp. “Besides, I don’t care if it scars.” It’s not like I have a mirror to look at anyways.

Both look unsure but Gaius holds out the tools for Merlin who hesitates but eventually takes them. The needle is curved and the thread looks almost see-through. I hide my nerves behind a smile for Merlin’s sake who is chewing his bottom lip. I lean my head back against the knight’s chest to keep it steady, closing my eyes so I don’t have to watch the pointy end come closer to my eyes.

The needle pinches my skin, making my hands clench together and my nails dig into my skin. Gaius begins guiding the warlock, instructing him how to tie it off. I feel his hands against my head, a little shaky but he’s trying to hold them steady. Leon’s hands which were around my front pull my fingers away from my palm, wrapping his own between them. I try my best not to wince or cringe but every time that the needle meets my skin again my eyes twitch. It’s painful but not as painful as the cut itself.

After eight or so stitches it’s finally done and I think Merlin feels more relief than I do.

“That is a good job, Merlin,” Gaius praises, inspecting each knot.

Leon moves around to my front, smiling down at me.

“How do I look?” I ask cheekily, grinning from ear to ear.

“Gorgeous,” he jokes, kissing the clean part of my forehead. “I can’t believe I missed seeing you fight. Not that I want you fighting but it certainly would’ve been quite a sight.”

“She shot a man while sliding off a roof,” Merlin pipes.

“You saw that?” I giggle.

“You slid off a roof?” Leon asks incredulously. “You know Castor is going to want you to do a re-enactment?”

“I’m counting on it,” I chuckle. “Thank you, Gaius and you Merlin. I’ll see you both later.” They wave goodbye as Leon and I leave the physician’s quarters. “Anything that I miss in the past couple of days?” I ponder. He shakes his head, sauntering around with no real destination.

“Nothing besides a few more new boys joining training. Would you like to go on a picnic tomorrow? I have the day off and it looks like the weather’s going to be nice,” he rambles.

“I would love that,” I nod. “I’ve never been on a picnic before. Do I need to bring anything?”

“No, leave it all to me,’ he assures. 

“I miss cake.”

“I miss the movies.”

“I’m guessing the psychics were wrong and that the world didn’t end in twenty-twelve.”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Unfortunately?”

“Ever since twelve the world just got worse and worse. Like you think – this is it; the year is going to get better than bam. Something else happens.”

“Did you ever do drugs?”

“No.”

“That’s good.”

Castor and I lean against each other’s back in the middle of my room on the floor. It is far into the night, and most of the castle is asleep but we have been talking for hours about nonsense now that sleep doesn’t even feel near. A thought pops into my head, one that I haven’t thought about before.

“Castor, that pull you felt – like I did towards Merlin. Do you feel it anymore?” I ask making an effort to keep my tone neutral. I feel him shake his head, his curls tickling my neck.

“Actually, no I don’t. I haven’t in about a month or so now. I didn’t even think about it really,” he explains. “What about you?”

“No. I don’t,” I lie. I can’t help myself though. What if he’s like me? It would make so much sense. I have to tell him. “Actually I do. There’s something I need to tell you. Something you can’t tell anybody about,” I warn.

“What? Or you’ll be executed?” he jokes, laughing but I don’t join in.

“Yes,” I say, looking forward. His laughter stops and I feel his body move away from mine, turning to face me. I turn my neck to meet his surprised gaze. “I think we’re the same and that’s why I need to tell you.”

I get up and grab the book I still hadn’t given to Merlin and also the two pages from the draw that I had ripped out.

Castor doesn’t say anything, just watches me bring the stuff to the floor.

“I’m called a Vessel, and I think you are too,” I begin. “It might be hard to explain but basically – imagine one of those power-ups in Super Mario right, well, a Vessel is like that but to somebody with magic. They’re connected to the energy in the earth, which is the source of magic and we draw that into ourselves and concentrate it. Before we bind to a sorcerer we feel a pull towards anybody with magic running through them but it becomes a thousand times stronger when you connect to them. A blood sharing ritual joins them until their deaths.

“They can magnify their Meistr’s power, I believe they might even be able to speak telepathically but I’m not sure yet. It works physically so any type of distance isn’t a good thing but you can train it to work better. And then there’s the mark,” I pull up my sleeve showing him the swirls, “I got it once I was joined to Merlin. I can feel it whenever he uses magic-“

“Merlin has magic?” Castor interrupts. I stare at him for a moment, not realising why he would say that but then I realise what I had said and my hands fly to my mouth.

“Oh my god,” I whisper on repeat. “Oh god, oh god.” I begin to shake violently. “He’s never going to trust me again. Castor! You cannot say anything, to anyone,” I hiss, my hands gripping his shoulders. Tears pool in my eyes, guilt drowning me into a lonely abyss.

“I won’t say anything. I don’t agree with the ban on magic and I’ve been keeping secrets my whole life, I can keep another,” he comforts, his hands cupping my face as tears pour down my cheeks.

“I-I-I feel so-so b-bad,” I hiccup. “He can’t know you know. He’ll never forgive me.” Castor doesn’t respond, just bringing me into an embrace, both of us sitting on the floor. I hiccup between my sobs, trying to stop myself. There’s a loud knock at my door, on the verge of banging.

“Elena! It’s Merlin,” he calls loudly from the other side. The guilt grips me again and I struggle to breathe. Castor looks at me, silently asking me what to do. “Elena? Are you alright? Please let me in.”

“How did he know? Was it because of the bond?” he whispers. I nod, looking at the door, needing to answer it but I didn’t know what I would say once I saw his face.

“I’m fine, Merlin. Sorry. I just had a nightmare,” I say, keeping my breathing steady. “Go back to bed, I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure?” he calls uncertainly. “Can I come in?”

“Please Merlin, I’m fine,” I say, exhaustion of the day taking me. He must stand out there for another minute as we don’t hear footsteps but eventually he leaves. My throat manages another sob.

“You’re not a bad friend, El, you just have a lot on your plate. How about you tell me more about this Vessel thing,” he suggests quietly. I nod, bringing the book back over, telling him everything I knew so far. I try to keep Merlin from my mind but I feel as though I’m responsible for his execution that isn’t happening. I trust Castor, enough to keep this secret but it is the fact that I let it slip without meaning too so easily. Who’s to say I won’t do it again to the wrong person.

I even show him the papers, describing the issues of a Meistr’s death and a Vessel’s capabilities.

“So Merlin dies, you die?” he questions, reading over the paper.

“Pretty much. But I can also take his wounds on if I choose to, which would save his life but I would still die,” I muse, tired from the crying.

“And you think I’m a Vessel too?”

“It would make sense. Somebody found us and brought us here for a reason, and we both felt the pull to Merlin. I may as well tell you everything, but Merlin is destined to be one of the most powerful sorcerers ever and will help Arthur be the Once and Future King. He’s saved Arthur’s life more times than I can count.”

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “King Arthur and Merlin. The legend.” His eyes are wide, moving from side to side as though finally piecing everything together.

“Yes,” I laugh. “We’re living in the legend. I’m surprised you didn’t realise about it before. Arthur, Merlin, Camelot. It’s literally everywhere.”

“I never even thought about it till now. I thought Merlin was supposed to be old and-“ he makes a gesture as though stroking a beard.

“I was just as surprised as you.”

“This has been… an informative night,” he summarises, nodding slowly. “Who else knows about Merlin?”

“Just Gaius.”

“Makes sense. Do you know why we felt that pull to Merlin but nobody else? Merlin isn’t the only sorcerer.”

“Merlin is one of the most powerful though. He was born with magic, he didn’t learn it. I think that’s why. We probably felt something to others but never noticed it in comparison.”

“You should get some sleep,” he says, pushing up from the floor, dusting his pants off. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I smile, bidding him goodnight and change into my nightwear once he has left, placing the book back at the bottom of my wardrobe behind some boots. I struggle to fall asleep, knowing I just split a secret that could end an innocent boy’s life. 

The next day is as miserable as it can get, grey storm clouds covering the entire sky, booming with thunder and pelting rain. I watch it from my window, staring out into the court where people run through, avoiding the rain. Some people embrace it, sauntering through it without a care in the world.

I don’t know how they do it; I loathe the feeling of wet clothes and hair. It is cold and sticky. It makes me think of another thing I miss, the hot showers on a cold night. Here I could have a bath with warm water that cools within minutes. I’ve gotten used to it but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. 

“I’m afraid I predicted today’s weather wrong,” Leon admits, entering my chambers through my open door.

“I think you did,” I muse, greeting him with a sharp smile. Being off-duty, he’s only dressed in the normal chainmail which he wears every day anyways. “That’s ok. We can have a picnic any day of our choosing.”

“So what are we going to do today instead?” he asks, walking to me where I sit on the window sill. My hand moves around his torso, clinging to the belt around his armour. 

“How about I teach you to play charades?”

“Charades?”

“Uh-huh. Does Castor or Torj have the day off, we could drag one of them in here?” I suggest. Leon’s eyes narrow in thought, nodding slowly.

“I think Torj does. I’ll go get him.”

An hour or so later, I’ve effectively taught them to play charades, Torj leaning against my bed and Leon taking my spot on the window sill as they watch me mime.

“A jester?” Torj asks his head forward as though he’s struggling to see me. I shake my head, changing my actions. “If that isn’t a child then I give up,” he says, folding his arms. Leon watches me, completely lost. I sigh loudly, letting my arms drop.

“Have you guys never seen a monkey!” I cry, breaking my silence, looking at them exasperated. Leon still looks confused.

“How in the world was that a monkey?” he asks. “I’ve heard of them but I’ve never seen one before,” he admits. Torj however, is laughing like a madman.

“Nah, I knew it was a monkey from the beginning but that was hilarious to watch,” he chortles, his head leaning back. I pick up a shoe I left on the floor, chucking it at his head. It hits him in the cheek, stopping his laughter immediately. His hand holds his cheek, glaring at me and muttering under his breath. “Bitch.”

“Well you both suck at this,” I declare, sitting on the ground. It still pours outside, no sign of sunlight. The door to my room opens, Castor popping his head through the opening.

“The King is holding a council for the knights. Something about Cenred,” he informs.

“Well, that us lass. As much fun as this was, duty calls,” he laughs, patting my back as he exits my room. Leon offers a hand to pull me to my feet. I graciously accept, feeling weightless as he does so without a sign of strain.

“I’ll see you later then,” I say, giving him a short smile.

“Indeed,” he agrees, kissing my cheek before following Torj’s actions and leaving me in my room alone again.

I could find Merlin. He wouldn’t be present in this type of meeting. Embracing the pull, I let it guide me to Arthur’s chambers, the door open. I peek my head in, the Prince nowhere to be seen but Merlin is on the floor scrubbing the stone with soapy water. He hears my footsteps, looking up but no stopping his work.

“Elena, Arthur is in a meeting if you need him,” he says, grunting as he pushes against the floor.

“Actually I want to talk with you,” I announce, sitting down with him. I grab the second brush, not wanting to let him do all the work while I sit around. “I was thinking about the Druid boy. When he spoke to you in his mind, I could hear him too right?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, letting me go on.

“Well, that would mean that we’re telepathically connected too. Wouldn’t it make sense if we could communicate in the same way?” I prod, watching his face for a reaction. He stops scrubbing, looking at me with a thoughtful eye.

“That would make sense,” he affirms. “Let me try.”

He stares at me intently, as though waiting for my response and I wait for something to happen. A whisper or anything to appear in my head. After a few moments, I shake my head.

“I don’t have anything.”

I think hard, imagining a string from his forehead to mine to help visualise it. I repeat his name in my head, urging it to be heard by him. I feel like I’m trying so hard my head begins to hurt but Merlin gives no sign of hearing me. I mentally give up, thinking if we did anything wrong.

“Wait!” he whispers. “I hear my name. But it sounds…deep,” he frowns, head tilting.

“I’m not thinking your name right now,” I speak unsurely.

Merlin purses his lips, exhaling. “Nope. It’s just Arthur.”

“Merlin!” the said Prince yells, coming into his chambers. Merlin and I pick up where he left off, scrubbing the floors. “I’m supposed to be in a meeting right now and all my boots are dirty. I can’t arrive like this,” he complains, kicking off his shoes. “What are you doing in here Elena?”

Merlin stalks over to where the Prince stores his shoes, warmth in my mark making me aware he’s using magic.

“Oh, I had some spare time and thought I’d spend it cleaning your floors,” I snide but hide it behind a cheery smile.

“Right.”

“Here you are Sire,” Merlin declares, holding out a pair of polished brown boots. The Prince snatches them out of his servant’s hand. Pulling them on, he storms back out the door as fast as he came.

“What a clot-pole,” Merlin says.

“Sure is,” I reply, going back to the scrubbing.

“What?” Merlin asks, looking at me funnily. I look at him incredulously, not understanding what he is confused about.

“Arthur, you said he was a clot-pole,” I begin slowly. “I agreed.”

“I didn’t say he was a clot-pole,” he replies, just a slowly as me. “I did, however, think it.”

“You’re joking?” I gasp. “Do it again!” I demand, discarding the scrubber.

He nods, thinking hardly again.

“I can’t believe I’m talking with someone in my head,” the voice belonging to Merlin says, perfectly clear in my head even though his lips don’t move at all.

“I heard it!” I shriek. This is so cool.

“It is,” he agrees, smirking at me. My eyes widen, realising I hadn’t said that aloud.

“You heard me too?”

“You’re just as loud inside my head as real life,” he taunts, scratching his ear. “I think we should work on not screaming.”

“We’re going to have so much fun with this. Just think of the possibilities – we can talk about people and nobody would ever know,” I gush, giddy at the discovery, ignoring his poke at my volume. “Now, while I’d love to help you, uh, clean the floor I do have my own jobs I should attend to.” It wasn’t a full lie, I do have a job but I don’t fancy nor envy Merlin’s position and I do not intend on taking it on even in my spare time. “We can practice this later and make sure we have it perfected. Never know when we might need it.”


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

“We should work on the distance thing. I can’t handle it if you’re going to be going out with Arthur all the time,” I say, lying on one of Gaius’ medical beds while Merlin is on his hands and knees cleaning the leech tank. “I don’t know what it feels like for you, but when you left for Ealdor it felt like I was sick.”

“And I couldn’t perform my magic well,” he adds, nodding slowly. “It felt…wrong.”

“Exactly. But I found a book and it said we could train this. Stretch it like elastic!” I exclaim, throwing my arms towards the roof.

“Elastic?” he asks, perplexed at the word with a cute dorky face.

“Oh, it’s like this really stretchy material but that’s not the point,” I shake my head, bringing myself back to my original thoughts. “Now that we can communicate we should try it. We can see what happens and I don’t have to run all the way back here after each time to tell you.”

“Gaius doesn’t like me using magic unless I have to,” he falters. I sit up on the bed, grasping its edges.

“Merlin. This could mean the difference between life and death. If you can’t perform magic because I’m not here than…well, nothing good is going to happen,” I shriek. “Besides, the burning in my arm isn’t something I exactly look forward to.”

“Alright, alright,” he submits. “Go to the other side of the castle. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Aye-Aye captain,” I say in his mind, saluting him. He mouths a ‘what’ at the unknown expression but I jog out of the quarters, not bothering to answer. Over the last few days, I had been practising with him at random times to make sure I could do it at will.

“Do you still have that book?” he asks while I strut down the corridors back over to near Arthur’s chambers. I am confused for a second before remembering that I brought up the book about Vessels.

“Yes. I’ll bring it over tonight.” I answer.

I find an empty corridor that I know is relatively unused, leaning against its wall. The windows peer into the Camelot gardens, a mix of herbs and an orchard and flower beds.

“I’m ready. Start with something small”

My mark begins to warm but turns into a sting and a tugging sensation erupts inside me.

“That wasn’t too bad. Wasn’t great either but…” Merlin says.

“I’ll get a little closer,” I reply. I move another few corridors back down. “Okay.”

Once more, the mark warms. While there is a slight sting, it’s more of a prickling sensation than anything else.

“That was good. It feels better,” he says.

“Same here. Do it again. Something bigger this time.”

This process goes on for a while. Trying something small, getting comfortable with it then moving on to something bigger. I moved around a lot, starting with finding a distance that is comfortable for both of us then moving on, testing its limits. I can feel myself getting accustomed to it, even just after practising today; Merlin could perform larger spells at a greater distance with no negative side effects on either side. I can only compare it to exercise. Using a small weight to get used to the movement than using a challenging weight, adding more on as needed to push and improve. 

We stick to the castle as limits, pushing both ourselves far enough today. I can feel exhaustion creeping on me, even though it’s the middle of the day. With each spell, it costs me, just a little. But it adds up when you do it over an hour.

“Aren’t you going on a hunt tomorrow with Arthur?” I ask him, sure I heard Arthur saying something about a hunt.

“If you mean will I be forced to do the dirty work and lug around the heavy stuff,” he replies, the sass coming through as well, “then yes.”

I giggle to myself in the empty corridor, probably looking rather stupid but my mood is too good to dampen with the thoughts of others judgement. Nothing had come to Camelot threatening anybody lives in two months which seems like a new record. Leon had taken me on the picnic he promised, out to an open grassed area on a gorgeously sunny day. It seems as though things are finally slowing down in our lives, almost as though it is back to before Merlin’s arrival.

Gaius enters the corridor at the other end, a vial in his hands.

“Afternoon Gaius,” I greet warmly, the pleasant thoughts bubbling through. Gaius looks almost surprised at my voice but covers himself well enough.

“Good afternoon Elena. I’m surprised to see you without Merlin or one of those knights for once,” he comments, his words cautious as though not to offend me but I take nothing of the kind. If only he knew.

“I am an independent person, Gaius, however unlikely it may seem some times.” I peek at the potion in his hand. “What have you got there?” I probe. The physician holds the vial up, letting me inspect it closer.

“It’s the Lady Morgana’s draught for her nightmares,” he informs, thinking again before he continues. “I believe you mentioned suffering nightmares as well, would you like me to draft you something to help?” he offers. I am warmed at his gesture but I hadn’t suffered from nightmares in quite a while now.

“No that’s alright. I seem to have overcome them myself. It may have been my body just not used to this place yet but I’m content enough now to call it home,” I bubble. Gaius seems ready to continue moving on so I conclude our conversation. “Thank you, though. Have a nice day, Gaius.”

“Good day,” he bids, continuing past me to Morgana’s chambers.

Though I still feel tired, it would be pointless to waste the day so I decide to make a round of the castle, knocking on people’s doors and ask if they have clothes they need mending. By the time I have seen most of the castle, I have a well-established pile of clothing, and not sure who's is who’s but that would be a problem for another day.

The pile keeps me busy well into the night, almost falling asleep at my desk but a servant collecting dishes wakes me back up, which I am glad for because spending the night bent over at a desk would lead to a horrendous back problem and everybody around me would be hearing about it for days, and I am sure they are sick of me already so I don’t want to push my limits.

Merlin and Arthur’s hunting group return the next afternoon, much too soon for a normal hunting trip but I am shocked to hear from one of the servants that the Prince had brought down a unicorn, bringing its horn to the King as a trophy. While I do participate in some hunting, I did it to help bring food and animal products back, not for a trophy and certainly not kill something as beautiful as a unicorn.

I walk with Gaius and Merlin through the Square, helping them acquire items to get away from the horde of clothes I have currently in my room in need of mending.

“I don’t understand how Arthur can have taken any pleasure from killing the unicorn,” Merlin laments.

“Arthur is a hunter. It’s in his blood. Whereas you are something entirely different,” Gaius counters, neither in defence or prosecuting the Prince. I have always admired Gaius’ ability to see a situation from both sides, something I often needed.

“It was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen,” he crows, turning his head to look at us. “I wish you’d both been there to see it.”

“I didn’t even unicorns existed,” I admit, realising that my childhood fantasy may not have to remain one for long if I could see one in the lifetime.

“They are very rare creatures, a privilege to see one.”

“You try telling that to Arthur,” Merlin jeers.

“Like he will listen to anybody but his own mirror and his father,” I scoff, bending over to pick a rock that looks pretty, tossing it between my hands. Neither man argues my words knowing they are true. “And even then he doesn’t listen to them sometimes.”

“You should go see Arthur, I’m sure he’s waiting for you,” Gaius instructs, making a shooing gesture. “Before he has you in the stocks again.”

Merlin looks up at the sun, as realising the time. Muttering something about the stocks he jogs away, leaving Gaius and me to continue our walk.

“I think it’s been a good four months since he’s been in the stocks,” I remark, holding my hand up to block out the sun from reaching my eyes. A light wind blowing my hair behind me, my dress folding between my legs. “Must be a record or something, the kids probably miss him.”

“Unless you count the time he Arthur threw a tomato at his head last week,” Gaius chortles, shaking his head side to side. My mouth opens, thinking back to the distinct memory.

“That’s why head had seeds in his hair,” I realise. “I thought he had just been digging around in the gardens. I should tell you if Merlin hasn’t already. We’ve improved the bond’s capabilities and we can speak telepathically with ease now,” I inform. The rock moving between my fingers. “We had some trouble with things at a distance but we’re getting the hang on it now.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I hope you’ve been keeping this on the down-low though,” he speaks quietly, eyes looking around for any prying ears. I nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Of course. But I still don’t know how to do this healing thing. I’m worried when the chance comes I won’t be able to.”

“For both of your sakes, I hope you don’t need too. Merlin may be precious to me but you are too,” his voice says firmly but the intention is kind. I wrap my arms around his neck.

“Thank you, you are precious to me too, Gaius. But it’s my duty to and I can’t hesitate. It’s either the both of us or just me and there’s no sense in both of us dying,” I conclude. True, the information shocked me when I first discovered it, not sure what to make of it. I relate it to the story of Eragon and his dragon. If he is to die, his dragon who is bonded to him will as well but unlike her, I have the chance to let him live. Anybody would be stupid not to choose that for someone they care about.

“Gaius!” A guard calls. “The King requests your presence in the court immediately.”

“I’ll be right there,” he calls. I bow, bidding him a silent goodbye but my face drops in worry. Merlin had informed me of the legendary curses unicorn’s deaths could bring and the urgent request for Gaius is never a good sign.

“I’m just getting myself overworked,” I mutter, brushing the thoughts away. My eye catches a red cloak floating through one of the open corridors, a familiar head on top of it. I jog to catch up with him.

“Leon!” I call, coming up closer behind him. Hearing his name he spins around, planting a smile on his face but I can see the worry behind his eyes even though he attempts to hide it from me. “What’s the matter?” I ask, coming to a stop in front of him. His smile falters, knowing I can see right through it.

“All of Camelot’s crops were diseased overnight,” he admits.

“All of them? Even the outlying villages?” I query, aghast. He nods solemnly, his cheek indented from where he bites it between his teeth. This is too much of a coincidence with the unicorn. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. There are other sources of food that can sustain us for a while,” I say, trying to think positively.

“I’m not sure how long they’ll last though. Fruit and vegetables rot quickly and livestock can’t survive without food either,” he says wearily. I don’t answer as I can’t think of anything to say. “Sorry.” He shakes his head as though ridding himself of a thought. “I’ve just been stressed about it. We got word early this morning and we don’t know what to do. Uther has just called for Gaius to test the grain.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I urge him, grabbing his hand. “Camelot has faced numerous tough time. This is just another one.” Neither of us is convinced of my words but I let them hang like a thread of hope.

“They’ll cut back and start rationing soon. They’ll be giving the knights and army the better food, to keep them fit. I’ll come around and give you some of mine if it comes to that,” he says, squeezing my hand. I shake my head.

“Don’t do that,” I beseech. “I don’t eat much anyway and you’ll need it more than I do. I don’t run around with heavy armour and a sword every day,” I tease, touching the hilt of the sword at his hip with my other hand.

“I’d much rather not spend that energy worrying about you,” he counters. I roll my eyes but it is pointless in arguing. “I have to go speak to the guards but I’ll find you later.”

I smile in agreement and he lets go of my hand, turning around to leave but I call out offended. “Excuse me?” I quip. He looks back utterly perplexed but then laughs, leaning down to kiss me. “Better,” I murmur. He smirks, turning around to leave again and I let him, watching his red cloak flow behind him majestically. He is mine and I am his.

I head back to the physician’s quarters to wait for their arrival, knowing they’d both have some information to divulge. And true to my prediction, Merlin enters, smiling as he sees me at the table, inspecting some different potions.

“What are you looking at?” he asks, though not in an accusatory way.

“No idea to be honest,” I admit, squinting my eyes. “I can’t read the label.” I put the liquid back on the shelf, amongst the other exotic liquids.

“Well, I know not to trust you with healing me then,” he quips. “Probably give me the wrong thing.”

I scoff, pulling a dirty rag from the table, scrunching it and throwing it in his general direction. He easily doges it, throwing it back my way.

“I heard about the crops,” I mention, hoping it would spark him to tell me what the Prince knows.

“What?”

“You don’t know?” I ask puzzled. And here I am waiting for him to give me something. “All the crops in Camelot have died overnight.”

“How is that even possible?” he questions, apprehensive of the possibility.

“I don’t know,” I shrug. “Leon is stressed about it, I just saw him an hour ago. Food is going to be rationed.”

Gaius enters at that moment, holding a handful of dead grain. He greets us briefly, moving straight into his work. I move away to sit with Merlin at the desk, both of us intently watching the physician do his job.

“He’s so concentrated” I comment, letting out a short huff. “Maybe if you were that dedicated to your job you wouldn’t end up in the stocks.” I taunt, not even needing to look at him to see the offended face.

“I’ll have you know, the last time I was in the stocks was because I was actually good at my job” he retorts, a physical scoff leaving his mouth.

“You landed in the stocks because you’re a terrible liar and you have a permanently guilty face”.

He fingers pinch my side, making me jolt and give him a playful glare. Memories of my night with Castor spread throughout my mind, old guilt rising back up again. I’d betrayed this boy and his trust. I force it back down and out of memory.

“Any ideas what caused the crops to die?” Merlin asks aloud.

“I’m here to complete all the tests. No disease I have heard of could spread through the entire kingdom in a single night.”

“I don’t think there has been in history, not at this level anyway and I’m speaking with knowledge from the future here,” I chime in.

“Well, what could kill all the plants other than a disease?”

“It’s not killing all the plants,” Gaius informs us. “The trees and hedges around the crop fields are unharmed. Unfortunately, you can’t eat trees and hedges.”

“It’s targeting food? And everywhere in Camelot but nothing else,” I shake my head, my forehead burrowing. “This isn’t a normal disease if it’s a disease at all.”

“You think its magic?” Merlin asks me but Gaius answers before I can.

“We cannot assume anything just yet. Perhaps there is something in the soil and water that can explain it. I can’t tell the King it’s caused by sorcery until I’m completely certain.”

“It’s almost definitely sorcery,” I say in my mind.

“I’m afraid you are going to be right.”

“At least it isn’t the water. We couldn’t survive half as long without water,” I say, trying to add some light onto the situation.

The town is filled the next day with people lining up for their rationed grains, people arguing amongst themselves. Guards stood near, already having stopped a few looters. Two villagers argue over a sack of grain, pulling it between themselves.

“Merlin, Elena!” the voice belonging to Gwen calls. We stop, turning to greet her as she stands at the well, a bucket ready. “Is it true what they’re saying about the crops? They’re all dead?”

“Afraid so. We may have to start tightening our belts,” he says, making a small joke to lighten the conversation.

“Could do Arthur some good,” I add with a half-smirk.

“Well I’m sure the Prince will think of something,” she assures, more so to herself than us.

“Well, if he doesn’t, I will,” Merlin quips cheekily. I wave goodbye, following Merlin around the path but Gwen calling out our names draws us back. She’s pumping the water well, only dry sand coming out in the water’s place. Merlin gives me a side-eye in reference to my earlier comments.

“How was I supposed to know?” I scoff, crossing my arms. “Now we’re stuffed. Let’s go tell Arthur.”

“Can I have that bucket?” Merlin asks Gwen who nods - confused but doesn’t question it. The warlock takes the bucket and we do as I suggested, and go alert the Prince.

An hour or so later we sit in Gaius’ chambers with the bucket of sand in front of us. My throat is already dry, having the terrible habit of not drinking water till I am parched and now that I haven’t had water in a day at least, I regret my decisions immensely. Merlin holds his hand out to the water, flipping through his book. My mark has been going on and off as he casts but even my help doesn’t seem to be strong enough to overcome whatever magic was cursed onto Camelot. This is above our paygrade.

“Gréot gecymen, lecan. Gecymen gé drýe wæter.”

But like the past twenty times, nothing happens but a flash of gold and a burning mark. Sand remains sand and my throat is still dry.

Gaius enters, Merlin’s eyes widen, caught in headlights.

“I was…I was just, er…” he fails to come up with an excuse but Gaius doesn’t look mad like the warlock is expecting.

“I was hoping you might be trying to turn it back into water. I know I’ve cautioned against using magic, but if ever there was a time to use your talents, it’s now,” he urges.

“Well, I wish I knew how. I’ve tried everything. If it is magic, it’s more powerful magic than I possess, even with Elena’s help.”

I eat with Merlin and Gaius, our dinner only half of that which we usually get. A guard had come to inform us of a new curfew which I groaned at, feeling like a teenager once again only instead of a possible grounding, it would be being locked up in a cell for treason. Parents should learn a thing or two from here. Don’t give empty threats – build a dungeon and lock them in there for time out.

“I’ve got to go and get this rat of Arthur’s chambers,” Merlin informs us, getting out of his seat.

“I’ll come. Got nothing else to do anyways,” I chime in, standing up myself.

“Don’t forget there’s a curfew. I’m not bothering getting you two out of a cell, I’ve got other things to worry about.”

“Don’t worry, Gaius, we’re smarter than we look.”

“How smart do we actually look?” I say, putting my hands on my hips. “Because that rat is just not falling for any of our tricks,” I huff, bending over to look for it.

“I give up,” he exhales. “That rat can chew through all of Arthur’s boots for all I care.”

“You’re job, not mine,” I mutter, giving up with him. I look out the window seeing how dark it has actually become. “Any chance we haven’t missed curfew?” I remark rhetorically. We leave the Prince’s chambers unsuccessfully and walk through the Square to go back to the other side of the castle.

“Elena, Merlin. You do realise there’s a curfew?” the Prince calls, walking up to us both.

“Yeah, we were in your chambers, hunting for the rat,” he says in a rather pathetic defence. If I end up in a cell tonight because of him I swear -.

“Did you find it?”

“Nope,” I pop. “Believe it or not, rats just don’t want to be caught.”

“So you’ve been outwitted by a rat? They both of you together?”

“They do say rats are very intelligent,” Merlin defends.

“More intelligent than the both of you, it would seem. I thought two halves of a brain make one,” he chides.

“I take offence to that,” I remark in deadpan.

“Go home. It’d be embarrassing to lock up the seamstress and my own servant,” he sighs but his attention is taken by something behind us.

“What was that?”

“What?”

Arthur runs off and Merlin quickly follows. I’m left standing before realising I should follow them, sprinting to catch them, holding back a shout for them to wait up. Arthur jumps over the Courtyard ledge into a corridor like he is doing parkour, leaving me to awkwardly climb over it in my dress, never really getting the hang of obstacles. They’re chasing a man I’m too far behind to see, downstairs all the way to the Burial Vaults. I finally catch up, both men waiting at the bottom of some staircases, joining them in their silence. Arthur gives some hand signals to Merlin then too me. Merlin nods but I flash my eyes between the two not having any idea what they meant.

Arthur begins walking to the right, Merlin and I behind him. Realising we’re behind him, he scowls.

“That means you go the other way and cut him off,” he hisses to Merlin.

“Okay,” he says, turning around to go back the other way. I go to follow Merlin but Arthur grabs my arm.

“No you’re safer with me than that idiot,” he whispers. I don’t argue, knowing there’s no point. If Merlin didn’t have magic he would be pretty harmless. We stalk around the vault, his sword drawn. We make a full circle without a sign of anybody, coming back to Merlin. A silhouette of a man briefly flashes in a corner. Arthur signals to go around again but it yields the same results.

“Where is he?” Arthur breaks the pointless silence.

“I didn’t see anyone,” Merlin adds.

“He was right here! Don’t tell me you let him get past you.”

“Arthur, no one passed me.”

“Are you blind?!”

“Hey!” I call out in the warlocks defence. “We didn’t see him either.”

“Are you looking for me?” a brand new voice arrives, making my skin jump. We turn, meeting the gaze of a man in a white hood. “I am Anhora, Keeper of the Unicorns.” Wow, was that ever a job option? I should have a spare resume with me at all times.

“Camelot is under curfew. What’s your business here?”

“Arthur he just said he’s the Keep of the Unicorns, I really don’t think he cares about a curfew,” I chide but he shuts me up with a hard glare.

“I’ve come to deliver a message,” the man declares.

“And who is this message for?”

“It is for you, Arthur Pendragon.”

“Is it you who’s responsible for killing our crops, turning our water into sand?” the Prince accuses, holding his sword out.

“You alone are responsible for the misfortune that has befallen Camelot”

“Me?” Arthur cries out, not believing a word the mysterious man is saying. “You think I’d bring drought and famine upon my own people?”

“When you killed the unicorn, you unleashed a curse. For this, Camelot will suffer greatly.”

“If you have put a curse on Camelot, you will lift it, or you will pay with your life.”

“The curse was not my doing.”

“Undo the curse or face execution,” the Prince warns, sick of the Keeper’s words.

“Only you can do that. You will be tested.”

“You’re under arrest.”

Arthur goes forward to arrest the man but he disappears into thin air, not even the dust on the floor is unsettled.

“Until you have proven yourself, and made amends for killing the unicorn, the curse will not be lifted. If you fail any of these tests, Camelot will be damned for all eternity.” The man disappears once again but does not reappear.

“What a night,” I remark, earning me another unpleasant glare from the future King. “Comments not appreciated. Noted,” I grumble to myself. We go our own ways back to our respective chambers but I tug on the warlock’s sleeve before he leaves.

“Make sure you can convince him, I don’t think that man was a random crazy person,” I hush.

“I think so too. But Arthur’s proud and it’s going to take a lot to convince him that it’s his fault. Nobody wants to be responsible for the downfall of their kingdom. He cares more for his people than he does himself.”

I nod, saying goodnight and go to bed, my throat actually hurting now from its dryness and my lips are beginning to bleed through the cracks. Once I get back to my room I suddenly remember something. I open the top draw at my desk and pull out a soft object wrapped in a white cloth. I look at it but I don’t feel enough appetite to bring myself to eat it. Other people used more energy than I did.

I sneak out of my chambers, making sure the guards aren’t around and tiptoe to Leon’s chambers, knocking lightly at his door, opening it softly. Inside Leon is standing shirtless, searching through his wardrobe. He notices me coming through the door.

“Elena, what are you doing?” he says quietly. “There’s a curfew.” He puts on a shirt, breaking my eyes contact with his chest. I close the door behind me.

“I know. But I have something,” I beam, holding out the white cloth. “I grabbed it the other day before this all happened. It’s a few days old but it’ll still be good.” I unwrap the cloth revealing an unsliced piece of bread. Leon rushes over.

“No,” he states. “We’ve got enough. Uther is prioritising us, as much as I disagree. The people need it more.”

“I’m fine, I had a good dinner. And as I said, physically you do so much more than me. I can split it with Torj and Castor if you want,” I implore, wanting nothing more than for him to take it. “I’m not taking no for an answer so don’t waste it.” I push the bread out further, motioning to it with my eyes. I hear his stomach rumble, making me both smirk but realise how hungry he actually is. Of course, I feel hunger but it’s not something that I found bothers me as much as the lack of water does. Leon gives in, taking the bread, ripping a part of it for himself, handing the rest back to me which I would leave for Castor and Torj. Leon sits on his bed and I join him, leaning up against him as he eats ravenously, my hands resting on his leg, playing with the material of his pants. Tearing off another piece of his own, he holds it out for me.

“I’m fine,” I assure him with a short laugh. His brows raise and motions again for me to take it. I sigh, taking the piece and plopping it into my mouth, feeling guilty. “Happy?” I ask dropping in some sarcasm. He brushes a hair away from my face, one that refuses to grow out.

“Very.”


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

The next day passes slowly, my throat raw and losing my voice. I ended up in a dry cough anytime I had to speak. Torj and Castor felt guilty like I did taking the bread but their hungry convinced them to take it. Merlin had come to me, telling about Arthur’s refusal to believe in the sorcerer. I only sighed, muttering something about there only being so much time left. The knights have been working all day, helping keep order in the town and Merlin is busy helping Arthur so I stayed put in my room, not having the mental capacity to do anything more.

A migraine decides to plague me in the late afternoon as I sit on my windowsill, watching the Square. I see Merlin or one the knights once or twice but I can’t stand the light anymore, closing my eyes instead. I so desperately want to get to my bed but the movement makes blood pump through my scalp and dizziness to spin me around. I beg sleep to take me but it doesn’t grant my wishes.

At night, Leon enters my chambers.

“Elena?” he calls. I let out a soft moan in response, not bothered enough to use my actual voice. “Hey? Are you ok?” He shuts the door, coming over to me a hand brushing over my forehead. I blink slowly, my throat itching. I scan over him, looking at his own chapped lips and dry skin in dismay. “Should I get Gaius?” he worries. I shake my head best I can.

“I just need…water,” I croak taking a deep breath. Leon nods in understanding but it’s obvious he doesn’t know what to do. Eventually, he decides, his arms going under my back and legs, lifting me off the window sill. He places me down on my bed.

“Go to sleep,” he soothes, stroking my head. He makes a move to leave but I grip his wrist.

“Stay?” I plead, giving him my best puppy dog eyes that I’ve learnt from Merlin. He hesitates but agrees, laying down on the bed with me, but leaning up against the headboard so I can put my head on his stomach. I thank the heavens he’s not wearing his chainmail. The new comforting position lulls me to a soundless sleep.

I wake up the next day to Leon gone and feeling no better. I am not awakened by my own body clock however, a constant rapping at my door. Forcing myself out of bed, I’m greeted by Merlin who is beaming, holding up a ceramic jug and cup. Not even waiting for a greeting, he comes into my chambers putting the cup on my desk. Like a miracle before my own eyes, water flows out of the jug into the cup.

I gasp, racing over to the cup, taking it as soon as Merlin stops pouring. Its beautiful coolness soothes my throat and before I can satisfy it the cup runs out. I put it on the table and let the warlock fill it back up. This time I drink it slower.

“Take you time, there’s plenty more where that came from. And you could make yourself sick,” he warns.

“The water’s back?” I ask incredulously. “How? Why?”

“Last night, Arthur and I were down in the vault and a man was down there stealing grain but Arthur let him go. He said something about being rewarded,” he recounts, the grin still planted on his face. “I think it was one of the tests that the man told us about.”

“Well thank god for Arthur. He may be the reason for all this but he’ll end up being our salvation.”

“I think he’s starting to come ‘round and believe it in. Now we just have to get our food back. Remember that rat, well, guess what Arthur’s having for dinner,” he says, pursing his lips and plops on my bed. “Your bed is so much comfier than mine,” he groans.

“That’s just gross. I think I’ll stick to no food thanks,” I snort, my voice slowly coming back now that my throat doesn’t feel as scratchy.

“You need to eat,” Merlin chides with a look.

“Humans can survive for like, two weeks without food. It’s only been a few days.”

And I’d much rather feel the sickness of hunger than the vomit that would come if I ate rat or any other type or Vernon. I don’t even want to imagine what the people who were actually moving around all day feel like. Thinking of Leon lug around in chainmail frustrates me, knowing he is wasting precious energy but there is not much I can do.

“Do we know what these tests are going to be?” I question, hoping that it could give us an idea of what to prepare for. Merlin shakes his head dismally, still lying on my bed.

“No, but the last one was a test of character so maybe something like that again,” he suggests lazily and drained. “I’ve got to get back to Arthur. I’m going to try and convince him to look for Anhora.”

“Let me know if it works. I’ll come along, give me something to do.” The warlock nods in agreement. “Oh and good luck feeding Arthur rat tonight,” I giggle.

I leave my room, needing to feel the sun on my skin again. The town is full of people from the outlying villages, desperate for food but soon Camelot is going to run out and then what will happen?

“El, you’re feeling better then?” Torj greets, donned in his full knight outfit, cloak and all.

“Sure am. Merlin brought some water to me this morning,” I inform him. “I’m guessing you have all gotten some.”

“Yeah lass, Castor nearly made himself sick with the amount he drank. I was going to bring you some myself but I saw Merlin up our end of the castle and figured he was going to see you,” he comments, softly knocking my shoulder.

“Yeah, he came by earlier.” Torj nods soberly, a small smile gracing his lips.

“He seems like a good friend,” he muses. I nod my head quickly, thinking about the warlock and all that he’s done for me.

“He’s an amazing friend, I’m glad to know him.”

I watch the people, my mood dropping again. Some people argue, even start a fight causing the guards to intervene.

“Merlin is going to feed rat to Arthur tonight,” I remark tonelessly. Torj snorts, not even bothering to try and hide it.

“Wish I could be there to see it,” he says, smirking to himself.

We stand watching for another few moments. Unexpected hands slide around my waist, making my stomach leap into my chest and my hands ready to fight but the hands don’t trap me, just gently resting around my torso, interlocking with the other. The bottom of someone’s chin rests against the top of my head making me smile and lead backwards against the chainmail.

“This is madness,” Leon comments, joining us in watching the never-ending line of people. A new fight breaks out, the guards distracted with another dispute leaves nobody to stop them. Torj sighs, striding forward.

“Hey!” he yells, deepening his gruff voice. The two men who are fighting stop, seeing the red cloak of a knight walking towards them. I let a short laugh.

“Do you deepen your voice too when being all knightly?” I tease Leon who laughs softly.

“You tell me,” he counters.

Merlin had told me last night that he and Arthur would be leaving at first light so I wake up relatively early having asked Merlin to awaken me, not trusting my own body clock. I get dressed half asleep, putting the shoe on the wrong foot twice.

“You’re coming too?” Arthur queries as I show up just after sunrise.

“Lucky you,” I snide, more so tiredly than out of anger. Arthur’s face contorts into a ‘she woke up on the wrong side of the bed’ look but doesn’t say anything further. We take three horses, riding out of Camelot with speed.

Reaching the forest we tie them off, Arthur tracking on foot. I’d never tracked before, even on the hunts. I’d left that to the experts.

“What exactly am I looking for?” I question, staring at the dirt on the ground unsurely.

“You’re looking for footprints or broken branches. Anything that would indicate someone passed that…” he trails off but I don’t really here, bending over to look at an indentation on the ground. It’s a footprint, I can tell as I put my foot next to it. Looking up to tell them I realise Merlin is standing a few feet in front of me and I look back down at the footprint.

“Oh”

“Arthur!” the warlock calls, running after where he is last seen. I look up, eyes scanning through the foliage not even realising that Arthur had disappeared and now Merlin is running off too.

“Merlin!” I cry, trying to catch up but I trip over a rock. Unhurt but not unembarrassed I get back up running in the direction I saw Merlin go. I can hear him calling out for Arthur but the source of his voice keeps moving, making it difficult to keep following his track. I finally find him, along with Arthur who looks more frustrated than I’ve seen him in a while.

“Did you find him?” I ask innocently. Arthur shakes his head, not saying anything as he passes me, Merlin giving me a perplexed look, not understanding either.

We arrive back in Camelot, only to be informed by Gaius that the last of the grain supply has rotted, leaving the entirety of Camelot without a food source. I spend the rest of the day fixing some clothes but head down to Gaius’ for supper, not wanting to be alone.

We sit at the table, a plate in front of the two males but I willingly refused to eat their chosen meal.

“I know Arthur’s stubborn and pig-headed and annoying, but he cares about his people. More than he cares about himself. He will not forgive himself for making his people suffer.”

“You must make sure he doesn’t do anything rash,” Gaius warns. Merlin scoffs, raising an eyebrow.

“The mood he’s in, I don’t what he’s going to do.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to try it, Elena,” Gaius asks, gesturing to their choice of meal.

“When you want to eat that more than normal meat then I might try it,” I retort, looking at the black beetle in disgust. Anything creepy-crawly terrifies me, alive or dead. I think it’s the legs that do it for me.

“Sure they’re not poisonous,” Merlin doubts.

“Quite certain,” Gaius assures. “They say they taste like chicken. Unless we’re to starve like Elene, we must hope their right.”

I watch them, holding in a gag as the bite into it. I can hear the crunch, sending a shiver down my spine, a thick amber substance sprouting from the middle.

“This tastes nothing like chicken,” Merlin gags and Gaius’ face tells me that he agrees. They much through it and eventually I can’t watch, hiding my eyes under my arms.

“You two disgust me,” I groan.

“Arthur’s going to the Labyrinth of Gedref for his final test. He wants to go alone,” Merlin tells me the next day. My stomach hurts but it’s almost numbing by now, giving up on sending my brain messages.

“You’re going?” I ask.

“Of course,” he scoffs.

“Then I’m coming too.”

“Are you sure?” he asks. I nod. Where ever Merlin goes, I go.

“Did he say what this test is going to be?”

“No, he wouldn’t say anything, but Arthur’s getting ready to go now.”

Ready in less than ten minutes, Merlin and follow Arthur out, staying out of his line of sight on our own horses. In a few hours, we reach the entrance to the labyrinth. A hedged maze that looks eerie. We dismount, tying the horses to a tree near Arthur’s we wait for him to enter, shortly following him in.

“Which way did he go,” I mumble, looking left and right with Merlin who shrugs, choosing a random direction. I’d always been intrigued by mazes, loving the adrenaline of getting lost in them as kids but this one didn’t feel the same at all.

We turn another corner, coming face to face with Anhora.

“You said Arthur would face a test. And here you are, preparing a trap for him,” Merlin snarls.

“The trap isn’t for Arthur. It is for you, Merlin. Gehæftan,” he cast, vines protruding from the grassy hedge, wrapping themselves around Merlin.

“Merlin!” I cry, grasping his hand but he is pulled away from me. “What are you doing?” I confront the man, stepping up to his face. “We have no quarrel with you, we’re doing what you asked of us.

“You’re just a nuisance,” he mumbles, casting another spell, the vines begin the wrap themselves around me, snaking up my ankle and arms. I shriek, trying to pull away from them.

“Get off!” I cry kicking at them but thick vines cover my mouth, holding my voice in.

We are brought to a rocky beach, Merlin placed on the seat with two goblets on the table. I was kept back, hidden out of sight and silenced by the vine. I struggle against in but the vines are so tight that I can’t even move my arms from my body.

Arthur finally finds the exit to the maze, seeing Merlin seating.

“Merlin?”

“I’m sorry,” the warlock says. Arthur glares at Anhora.

“Let him go. I’ll take your test, but not till he’s released,” he bargains but Anhora isn’t interested in striking a deal with the Prince.

“That is not possible. Merlin is part of the test. Please sit. If you refuse the test, you will have fail, Camelot will be destroyed and the girl will die,” he instructs, as though it is a simple procedure.

“The girl?” Arthur questions, perplexed as he looks to Merlin. “I know he’s-“

“He’s talking about Elena,” Merlin cuts off, rolling his eyes.

“Elena? Where is she?” The Prince’s head turns, looking around for me but I cannot do anything to signal him. “Merlin, did you bring her here? You bringing yourself into these situations is bad enough, but you cannot bring her into this,” Arthur warns, pointing his finger at his servant. I roll my eyes.

“There are two goblets before you. One of the goblets contains a deadly poison, the other goblet, a harmless liquid. All the liquid from both goblets must be drunk, but each of you may only drink from a single goblet,” Anhora informs us and I realise the actual intensity of the situation. I lean forward, desperate to make myself known and stop this. Merlin is predictable; he will drink the poison himself, killing us both. Arthur cannot drink it for obvious reasons so the only logical solution is for me to take it.

The momentum sends me forward, rolling on the ground near Anhora’s feet.

“Elena!” Arthur calls, going to stand by Anhora signals for him to sit. “What kind of ridiculous test is that? What does that prove?”

“What is proves if for you to decide. If you pass the test, the curse will be lifted.”

“Let’s think about this. What if I drink from my goblet first?” Merlin queries, looking intently at the two goblets.

“If it’s poisoned, you’ll die,” Arthur counters.

“And if it’s not, then you’ll have to drink from yours, and you’ll die. There must be a way around it,” he says in thought.

“It is perfectly simple. One of us has to die. We have to find a way to determine which goblet has the poison. And then I’ll drink it.

“I’ll be the one to drink it,” Merlin declares.

“No, you won’t. Merlin is my job to protect you so I will drink it.” I send through my mind but he doesn’t answer.

“This is my doing. I’m drinking it,” Arthur argues.

“It is more important that you live. You’re the future king. I’m just a servant.”

“This is no time to be a hero, Merlin. it really doesn’t suit you.” Merlin sighs, thinking about the goblets again.

“What if I drink from mine first, and if that’s not poisoned, I well then drink yours?” Merlin suggests. Arthur looks to Anhora, as though realising something we don’t know.

“He said each of us is only allowed to drink from a single goblet.” He smiles at his servant. “I had no idea you were so keen to die for me.”

“Trust me,” Merlin smirks, “I can hardly believe it myself.” The Prince snorts unattractively.

“I’m glad you’re here, Merlin,” he sighs but Merlin is still trying to figure the goblets out.

“I’ve got it. Right, we pour all the liquid into one goblet and then we can be sure it is poisoned. Then all the liquid can be drunk, and it will be from a single goblet.” Even I admit that is a smart idea, a small smile playing on Anhora’s mouth, unnoticed by the two other men.

“Merlin, you better knock that prince out and give that drink to me or so help me I will murder you” I seethe.

“I’m not letting you take my place. You mean as much to me as Arthur does,”

“You never cease to amaze me, Merlin,” Arthur remarks with a soft smirk that’s almost a smile.

“Is that actually a compliment?”

I try to wiggle closer, not really sure what I’ll do when I get there but I don’t have the chance to think it through.

“Look out!” Arthur shrieks, pointing behind Merlin. My eyes quickly glance in the direction but flicker back once I realise he’s fooled us. Arthur pours the second goblet into his own.

“No! I will drink it!” Merlin demands, reaching for the goblet.

“As if I’d let you,” the Prince retorts.

“You can’t die, this isn’t your destiny.”

“It seems you’re wrong again.”

“Listen to me!” the warlock cries desperately, leaning over the table. “Arthur!” but the prince doesn’t listen, drinking the entirely of both drinks, surely poisoned. I cry out, claustrophobic in these vines as the Prince falls to the ground. “What have you done?” he leans over the unconscious body. I bite into the vine which is holding my scream back. Merlin pleads with the Prince to wake up. “Please. Please just let me take his place,” he cries.

“This was Arthur’s test, not yours.”

“You’ve killed him. I was meant to protect him!”

“He is not dead,” the man informs making me look at him in utter shock. “He’s merely consumed a sleeping draught. He will come round shortly.” What? I stop struggling, feeling the relief flood through me, a few tears of joy escaping my eyes. The vines around my body disappear, making me draw in a dramatic breath, finally able to talk again.

“You’re all idiots!” I exclaim.

“A unicorn is pure of heart. If you kill one, you must make amends by proving that you are also pure of heart. Arthur was willing to sacrifice his life to save yours. He had proven what is truly in his heart. The curse will be lifted.”

“Don’t have food on you here do you?” I ask. A loud grumble at the mention of food sounding from my stomach. Anhora disappears without answering. “Guess not,” I mutter.

We wait for Arthur to come around, waking up, Merlin explains everything to him, causing the Prince to nearly practically laugh in relief. We ride back into an entirely different Camelot than the one we left. People are bustling about, fresh food being distributed. Uther greets his son, questioning if the deed had been done. Arthur gives a simple answer, leaving the events a secret to everybody but the three of us and likely Gaius.

“There’s something I want to do,” Arthur says to the both of us. We follow him, collecting the unicorn horn from the main council room where it has been stored. We mount our horses again, riding back out to the area which they hunted it. Spending the next half an hour digging a small grave, Arthur places the horn into it, wrapped in the Pendragon red cloth.

“I should never have ended your life. I’m sorry,” he says solemnly, Merlin placing a stone over the small grave and I help, covering it entirely. Before Arthur can stand up, I leap onto him, wrapping my hands around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you,” I whisper in his ear, hoping he hears the sincerity in my voice. He’s proven himself a worthy king, friend and someone who has grown and learnt from their mistakes. He seems surprised but returns the hug.

“Look,” Merlin says quietly, standing up. We follow his gaze and I can hardly believe my eyes. Standing in front of us by mere meters is a unicorn, alive and well. Still, in Arthur’s arms, I slap him, silently screaming in excitement. He grabs my wrist to stop me from hitting him but I hardly notice, watching the fantasy creature trot away.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

I have definitely gained some weight, a prospect I am not mad about as I know full well where it came from, and I enjoyed every second of it. Once the food had become available again, I stuffed my face with anything that looked semi-pleasant.

Which leads to today where I turned my nose up at breakfast, the thought of eating anymore is disgusting. I tie my belt-like corset, the knots not falling in line with the dent marks after a year of use, a way I measured my weight without a scale. I had been interested to see if the diet and activity of my daily life here would affect it but up until now, I had barely fluctuated.

A little fullness doesn’t hurt anyone.

Tonight, Merlin and I are going to the tavern. I had to plead with him to come with me, especially after Gaius had divulged that he gets drunk after a lick of alcohol, a sight I am dying to see.

I spend the morning down in the town, chatting for Gorham who I haven’t seen in awhile after everything going on. We sit over some tea, gossiping about the city’s rumours.

“And I hear that Thomas boy has declared his love for Penelope,” she divulges, taking a long sip of her tea. I gasp and my jaw drops.

“But Thomas is about to get married to Daphne,” I counter. I had never met these people, but I sure do feel like I know every part of their lives’. Gorham has been in Camelot almost all her life and she has come to know many of the people and she and I would spend hours chatting about the drama.

“I know,” she remarks, nodding with a tilted smile. “Young love is always painful,” she muses, leaning back into her chair. I take a sip of my own tea, a hot herbal flavour that I can’t identify but my throat loves it.

“Always?” I query, eager to hear why she believes this to be so. I had yet to experience the pain of heartbreak and it isn’t something I look forward to. Not that I often think about it, but in reality, you either get married or break up here. 

“Oh yes,” she effuses, waving her hand. “Young people like yourself will always experience pain before you reach your happy-ever-after. And that’s if you ever get it, I certainly didn’t.”

I think back to Leon, analysing our relationship. He had said that we are officially courting, not that I really understand the process of it but I suppose it’s the same as dating. We’ve had our up and downs but we both communicated well and enjoyed the company of one another. Did he think of marrying me? I certainly had imagined the idea, like any other girl. But on the other hand, we haven’t even said the three terrifying words. Do men even think about things like this? Had he lain in bed, fantasising like I have? 

I am surprised that I am even an option for him since I bring no logical gain for him. No land, dowry, money. Am I destined to be rejected? Gorham is a wise woman and I have always taken her advice before, yet to prove me wrong.

Before I let her words truly sink into me, I change the topic, asking of her sun which she begins to natter on about, sharing his tales of travel. But the damage is done and a sense of unease builds itself in my head, the first true doubt about our future. I am a low-born, a serving girl and he is a nobleman, a knight of Camelot and one of the finest there is. Where do fit in? People might think less of him because of me, damaging his reputation he’s worked so long for.

After letting Gorham rant on her as long as she pleases, I big her farewell and thank her for the tea. I exit her home back onto the busy pathway of the main streets, stalls erected and plenty of goods to buy. I browse along them, my gaze drifting over everything I see. The goods vary from food, clothing, shoes, weapons, and jewellery. One vendor has a small stall, a few glass boxes on the surface in front of him. I glance down, seeing the silver jewellery inside. I go to move onwards but one piece catches my attention. I push through the crowd, eyes locked on the piece. I reach the stall, getting a closer look at the necklace. It is a single silver chain that leads to a dark green emerald jewel, encased by a teardrop styled piece. My fingers delicately brush against the glass as I admire it. I’d never been one to fancy jewels but I am entranced by its elegance.

“See something you like?” the vendor asks. I break eye contact with the necklace, smiling at the man. He can’t be older than thirty, a handsome man with black straight hair. I blush as though caught in an intimate moment.

“Y-yes. The emerald one,” I stutter out, glancing back down. The man nods knowingly.

“It’s my favourite too. Made it myself about two years ago and couldn’t bear to part with it,” he laughs, scratching his neck. “But I thought it’d be better with someone who would wear it and not store it in a satchel for the rest of their life,” he admits.

“I can see why you’d hate to part with it,” I muse. I exhale, asking the dreaded question. “Look, I probably can’t afford it anyway, but how much is it?”

“Thirty gold,” he states. “It’s a steep price but it is worth it for this beauty.”

I swallow sadly, knowing it is way out of my range and that I would likely never see it again.

“El!” somebody calls. I turn around, seeing Castor in his full knight wear walking forwards.

“Afternoon Castor. What are you doing down here?” I greet. He looks as chirpy as normal, a boyish smile planted on his face.

“Running away from training. Arthur was trying to kill us today, Leon and Torj are still stuck up there,” he says, flexing his back as though stretching out. “What are you looking at?” he peers over the stall, down at the jewellery. “Necklaces? Didn’t think you were into those things,” he muses. I shake my head.

“No, the emerald one just caught my eye,” I mention, touching the glass again. “It’s way too much for me though,” I lament, tearing my gaze away. Castor’s nose shrivels up at it.

“It is pretty but you don’t need it,” he compliments.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I chide, walking away from the stall. My mark burns, soft and warm making me smile internally at the strengthening bond. Castor follows me like a puppy. “And running away from training won’t get you in their good books either.”

“They’re training with blindfolds, so I highly doubt they even saw me leave,” he jokes shaking his head. “I know I do some stupid things but fighting with a sharp sword blind ain’t one of them.”

“First of all,” I laugh. “You’re picking up my speaking habits. And second- blindfolds? Are you serious?”

He nods ferociously. “I don’t understand how they do it”

“I want to watch,” I declare, changing my direction of path to the training grounds. Castor groans, mumbling something about getting in trouble but I don’t pay him any mind.

We pass by Gwen’s house, my mood dampening for the third time today as I remember that only a few weeks ago her father was executed under Uther’s command, sentenced with treason. Gwen has been devastated ever since but she continues to work, holding her hate against Uther at bay for the sake of her life.

We venture to my usual spot at the training grounds, a seat overlooking the grassy area. Merlin is there, watching Arthur as he battles a knight. Sure enough, he is blindfolded but the other knight isn’t. Arthur moves skilfully and instinctually. A born fighter, a fact nobody can argue with. He wins by knocking his opponent’s sword away from his hands.

Leon is standing in the small crowd of knights, talking with Torj and another man but steps forward to challenge Arthur. Both men put on their blindfolds, readying themselves. I watch anxiously for the first few seconds but quickly realise that both men are skilled enough to handle the challenge.

“Castor.” I call.

“Hmm.”

“Would you ever marry someone that isn’t a noblewoman?” I press him, somehow managing to keep my tone light and airy. He thinks for a moment.

“Me? I would if I met the right one. Most men stick to nobility, including Torj and most of the knights because of the stigma and the gains. You know the usual money and land stuff,” he offers. “It’s uncommon but not unseen for a knight to marry a woman of lesser standing but it can hurt his image depending on the woman.”

I don’t answer for a while, just taking in his words. I was right in my assumption before, that I wouldn’t be the best woman for him. I watch him fight, almost on equal terms with the Prince. A sad smile graces my lips. I have been so happy, and all that just turned upside in a day. Arthur wins, removing his blindfold and Leon congratulates him on his victory. Merlin trots forward, taking the Prince’s sword as he takes a break.

“I’ll see you later,” I state, turning away.

The rest of the day is spent sulking, my mood not recovering from this morning’s continuous depressing moments. But tonight I will be going to the tavern to drink my sorrows away. I call out ‘enter’ as somebody knocks at my door. Merlin opens the door, dressed no differently than usual.

“Are you ready?” he asks. I am also not dressed that differently from my usual attire; after all, it is only the tavern. I nod, grinning at him.

“Let’s go,” I exclaim. Merlin laughs at my enthusiasm, letting me pull him along by the sleeve.

The tavern is just as it usually is on a Friday night, alive and musical. I had come before through the weekdays and it isn’t the same, a more sullen and relaxed atmosphere. Still clinging to Merlin’s jacket I pull him over to the barkeeper.

“A gallon of mead,” I exclaim, shoving the money to the man. I’m determined to have a goodnight, a have the worries of today shoved from my head forcibly by alcohol. The barman huffs, taking the money and getting my order.

“A gallon?” Merlin asks uncertainly. “I don’t think we need that much.”

“You may not but after the day I’ve had, I certainly do,” I retort, snorting unattractively. We wait for the jug. My eyes slightly widen at the size, realising it's going to be too heavy to carry. I glance at Merlin’s arms, which are almost as thin as mine. However, whatever is there must be lean muscle from working for Arthur as he picks up the jug, placing it on an empty table nearby. I don’t miss the small groan he lets out, making me giggle. I grab two tankards, slamming it down on the table.

“Let’s do this.”

Gaius’ words could never have been truer; Merlin was absolutely drunk after two whole drinks. In comparison, Leon would be slightly affected after five and Torj who is a notorious drinker wouldn’t start showing the signs until he had his tenth of the night. We are much over our sobriety limit, a fact that the people of the tavern have taken advantage of. Merlin had been drunkenly singing, more so screaming than anything else and I had joined in to try and keep him in tune which was a hilarious but fruitless effort. The people of the tavern slammed their drinks against the tables chanting at us to sing. Merlin, with no regard for self-containment, dragged us both onto our table, stomping our feet, singing loud and merrily.

“In the boozer  
you’re a loser  
if the dice you’re shaking.  
You’ll get hurt  
and lose your shirt,  
sit there cold and quaking.  
Lady Luck, your gifts are bad,  
you trick us, then you make us mad,  
make us gamble, make us fight,  
and sit out in the cold all night.

‘Brrr!’ The naked loser moans,  
when he’s cold and left alone,  
shakes and shivers as he groans:  
‘I wish I could be  
asleep under a tree  
With a hot sunshine warming my bones.’

But now let’s roll the dice again  
and win some drinking money!  
Who thinks about November’s rain  
while it’s still warm and sunny?”

It is a song I had heard many times here, the words ingrained in my mind so we sang them as loud as our voices would allow. The tavern cheered on, joining into our chant. Our arms encircled, dancing around on the tabletop. At the end, we jump down, sweat gathering at my neck and back. It is the night I need, our gallon of mead now empty.

Merlin walks me home, although I think I’m the one babysitting him. He stumbles over the slightest bump in the road. The cold air of the night comes like an unwelcome guest and while it does nothing to sober me or the warlock it drags down the mood from the warm and bright tavern environment.

We reach my door, Merlin entering in with me, plunking down on my desk’s chair. I kick off my shoes, swan diving onto my bed. Thoughts I don’t want coming back to me, all the night’s effort wasted in the moments just before sleep.

“Merlin,” I sniffle. “I do-don’t think I should be with L-Leon.” The warlock looks at me, completely perplexed at my sudden confession, one he is not prepared to deal with sober, let alone drunk.

“Why would… you say… that?” he slurs.

“Because I’m not n-noble,” I murmur, my own words slurring together slightly. “I would be b…bad for his reputation, and he’s worked so h-hard to be where he is. I can’t take that aw…away,” I hiccup, tears already wetting my cheeks in my short declaration. Merlin stumbles from the chair, moving to sit beside me on the bed.

“Leon,” he says, taking a moment to think. “Leon is a good… man, and you are a good woman.” His words come out slightly jumbled, his tone dropping and raising in odd places. “If he cared about that he wouldn’t be…courting you.”

“But I care about it,” I cry, wiping my eyes with my shoulder. “I don’t want him to be loo-looked down on. He’s one of the… best men I’ve ever know-n.”

Merlin’s only answer for me is snoring worse than Arthur’s. He’s sprawled out on my bed horizontally, taking up most of it. I use my foot to shake him awake but he doesn’t budge. It’s not physically possible to carry him all the way back to his chambers but I cannot share a bed with him. I slide off my bed, pulling Merlin’s shoes off and placing them at the foot of my bed. My eyes are still red and sore but my cries dwindle down into occasional sniffles. I pull the cover on my bed down to wrap him up burrito style, an image I giggle at.

Leaving my shoes I tiptoe to Leon’s chambers, the only place I can think of unless I want to take Merlin’s bed. I open his door quietly, expecting him to be asleep but instead he’s leaning up against the wall, looking out through the window. It isn’t ridiculously late but most of the castle is asleep by now. He hears me entering, head-turning.

“There’s a Merlin in my bed,” I state, stumbling over to him. He frowns in confusion but draws me into his arms, stroking the back of my head.

“Why is there a Merlin in your bed?” he asks as though I am a child. I shrug, digging my nose into his chest. “Do you want me to get him out?” he asks, a typical man trying to come up with a solution. One I appreciate though but I shake my head.

“No, he’s out cold,” I mumble through his shirt. “I just want to go to sleep.”

“Okay,” he agrees softly. “You were at the tavern weren’t you?”

I nod. “Merlin is fun when he’s drunk.”

“Maybe you invite me next time?” he offers but he doesn’t sound offended, more so sounding like he enjoyed the idea of seeing a drunken Merlin.

“Yeah. I know you are leaving early tomorrow, that’s why I didn’t bother you tonight.” I take in a deep breath of the familiar scent, closing my eyes to give into their heaviness.

“I don’t have to drink. I just want to look out for you. There are some dirty men in those places,” he grunts. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He picks me up over his shoulder, placing me back down on his bed. I shuffle, kicking the blanket from underneath me to pull over my shoulders. Leon lies down next to me, saying something but I don’t hear it.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35 Merged with 36

After the night in the tavern, my guilt worsened every day watching Leon interact with the King, Prince, and other nobility. Although I know Arthur doesn’t care about such things, secretly pining over Gwen. They have it worse than me, Arthur being the Crown Prince, it would never be allowed under Uther’s watch. Is it not selfish of me to have Leon when he could wed somebody who would bring his family more power? Would they see him and only think of me, a lowly seamstress? Leon has never mentioned anything about ranks or expressed any worries but it is no secret that marriage is a common topic among the nobility.

And this doesn’t even begin to describe the guilt I feel for having splurged Merlin’s secret to Castor. The warlock has not been arrested thus far so the knight has kept his promise, one I will be eternally grateful for.

I ponder through the castle, returning from Lady Morgana’s chamber to finally hand her the dress that has been taunting me for weeks. Gwen is getting better physically. Her eyes less sunken and she no longer broke down in tears throughout the day. It would take much more than a month for her to overcome her father’s death though, something I knew from experience.

I notice Merlin walking rather feverishly back towards where I would assume as Gaius’.

“Merlin?” I call out, the boy half turning his body at the sound of his name. “Are you alright?” I jog over to him when he doesn’t answer aloud. His bottom lip is between his teeth and his eyes moving constantly around. “Merlin,” I urge. “What is it?”

“There was this…thing in the forest while we were hunting,” he begins. “It was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. A huge beast.” His words seem lost at how to describe it any further.

“Does Gaius know what it is?” I pester, not understanding how bad it can be.

“I think so, he’s speaking with the King now.”

“Are you going back to your chambers?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come along too.”

Gaius soon returns from his council with the King and Prince Arthur looking wearier than I have seen him in a long time. He places down a book, open to a page with a creature I can only describe as belonging on the ‘Spliced’ tv show from my childhood. A spotted body belonging to a snow leopard but marge stockier than one with the head of a cobra. I thank heaven that I was not on the hunting trip.

“It is called a Questing Beast, a creature of the Old Religion,” Gaius explains. “Arthur is selecting his best knights to go out a defeat it.”

“Why would you?” I exclaim, looking at the image. “It’s not like it caused us any problems before, so shouldn’t we just leave it to move on.”

“Uther is set on destroying it before it can do any damage. He hates anything belonging to the Old Religion.”

“If anybody can do it, Arthur can,” Merlin reassures. “And I’ll be around to help.”

“And me,” I add, one side of my face smirking. Merlin’s brow furrows.

“I’m not sure Arthur would allow you to come on such a dangerous job,” he remarks as though careful not to offend me. I scoff and wave my hand in front of my face.

“Please, he’s taking you and he thinks you’re useless. And besides, I won’t be asking permission,” I state, nodding my head once to finalise my argument. Gaius frowns at the both of us.

“I don’ think either of you should go and certainly not Arthur,” he argues, closing the book. “This is no ordinary beast.”

Merlin sighs, giving Gaius a small smile of confidence. “Don’t worry.”

Gaius moves around the table to stand closer to us both, a determined look on his face. “No, listen to me, you don’t understand. Uther may not respect the Old Religion, but it is very real. To face a beast such as this, you must understand where it came from.”

“What do you mean, Gaius. Is there something we should know?” I prompt, not understand what could be stressing Gaius so much. If it is unkillable, he would have informed the King and us by now.

“At the very heart of the Old Religion lies the magic of life and death itself. The Questing beast carries that power. One bite, you die, and there is no cure.” His words pierce the air with their solemnness. Merlin and I glance at each other.

“We have to. We can’t stop Arthur,” he says. The puppy dog eyes of his grasping the severity of the situation.

“I know.”

Leon and Torj tell me they have been selected by Arthur to join him in defeating the beast; a prospect that both terrifies me and warms my heart, proud of them to be two of the best in Camelot. It is no surprise that Castor had not been chosen. The man had displayed a rather offended look when Leon and Torj announced they would be leaving tomorrow but one pointed glance from me made him back down.

In the morning I ready myself early for the day, dressed in my riding pants and shirt, covered by my dress. I had talked to the stable boys and they will have a horse waiting for me as well, which I would ride behind them out of sight until well away from Camelot.

I exit my chambers, making sure my dress covered the pants. A servant passes by me, holding armour in his hands.

“Is that for Sir Leon?” I call out to him. The young boy nods. “I can do it for you.” The boy hesitates, looking between Leon’s closed door and me. “I’m a friend of his,” I assure, walking over to him. I take the armour from his hands and he looks me over once more, giving a curt nod and walks away. The armour is as heavy as it looks. I’d seen Merlin put in on Arthur enough times to know how to do it. Holding it’s weight in one hand and my chin balancing it I reach out to tap on Leon’s door twice.

“Enter.” I push the door open, nearly spilling the armour but managing to keep hold of it. Leon is dressed in the usual chainmail. His sword lays on the table ready to be sheathed. “Elena? What are you doing?” he chuckles grabbing the armour from me and placing it on his small table.

“What does it look like?” I cheek. “I’m putting on your armour.”

The knight smirks, giving me a raised eyebrow. “Have you ever put on someone’s armour before?”

“Merlin does it,” I snort, “How hard can it be.” Leon lets out a loud laugh and doesn’t argue, giving me the go-ahead. I shuffle through the armour, the main chest piece already connected. I lift it up, reaching around Leon to place it over his head. I fix the shoulder piece, tightening the straps. Leon guides me where I need it and I secretly thank the world that he’s not like Arthur and calling me a useless toerag for getting something wrong. 

I pat him down, making sure everything is secure and tied off. He raises a hand, gently stroking my jaw. My gaze floats up to him, giving him a questioning smile.

“You squint when you’re focusing,” he remarks. “And when you’re worried you chatter your teeth.” I think he’s beginning to know me too well for his own good. Soon he could start guessing my secrets.

“And when you’re worried,” I begin, picking up his sword. “You rest your hand on your sword.” Leon almost looks surprised at my observation, as though he didn’t realise anybody noticed, or maybe he didn’t realise he did it himself. I hand him the sword which he takes gently from me, sheathing it at his side. I smirk as his left-hand rests on the hilt. “Just like that,” I point out. His hand drops from the hilt, but I see it twitch uncomfortably. I take the hand in my own, twisting my fingers between his.

“I’m going to come back fine,” he emphasises, squeezing my hand. I shrug, looking up at him with all the confidence in the world.

“I know you will,” I state. “Because if you don’t then I will just have to die to join you.” I mean my words as a joke to lighten the mood but it doesn’t have my desired affect. He roughly shakes his head, tossing his blonde curls around in the air.

“No. You will continue to live a happy and safe life,” he demands softly. His eyes search mine to see my reaction. He deserves noble blood. A noble wife, a woman who can silently command the respect of people just by her name. So badly do I want to keep things the same way, but I know, that here in this time, blood means more than family. It means status, influence, and power. It is a source of money. If it was not like that, I would marry this man in a heartbeat.

My father’s number one life lesson was that to be selfless was the best thing a person could be. You can be kind, smart, beautiful, powerful. But if you were not selfless than all those other things go to waste, selfish acts hidden behind a front.

But am I so selfish for wanting love?

“Well just know that if I die, I’m dragging you down with me. I’m not spending the afterlife alone,” I tease, smirking to cover my hidden thoughts. Leon chortles, grabbing his helmet from the table. I grasp his clock that is over a chair, wrapping it around his neck. I finish tying it up around his front, the golden Pendragon symbol clear as day. Leon leans down, drawing me into a deep kiss. I ignore everything else in my mind, enjoying the moment and trying to remember every detail so I can bring it forward in the future. I grip his cloak and his hands run around my neck and back.

Drawing away, we silently bid each other farewell. I stare after him as he leaves the chambers, knowing I would see him in a few hours again anyways. Waiting a few moments, I exit myself, drawing the door close and travel down to Gaius’. Merlin will be with Arthur, giving me an opportunity to talk to the physician alone.

“Gaius,” I knock, opening the door slowly. The physician looks up, his eyes distracted and not by his work. I walk over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be alright,” I comfort. “Merlin will protect Arthur with his life and if anything happens to Merlin I will figure out how to take it from him. I can save him.”

“But what about you?” he sighs. “Who’s going to save you?”

I shrug, not taking the time to care about the thought of dying. It isn’t something could afford to. “I don’t need saving. It’s my job to make sure Merlin stays alive. Who knows – it might be a chain and someone is looking out for me,” I joke, giving a short laugh and I manage to make Gaius sprout a small smile. My smile widens seeing a rise of mood. “I have to go but Merlin will always come back to you, as long as I’m alive for.” I can tell my promise makes him feel better, a reassurance that his like-son will be alright.

I jog out to the stables, a young man waiting for me with a brown horse, tacked and ready to ride.

“Thank you,” I say, mounting the horse, silently proud of my developed riding skill. I have gone from barely being able to stay in the seat to a confident rider, something I never achieved back at home. I kick the horse lightly, bringing her into a trot and I lead her around the out edge of the city. The outer edge is harder to travel through with narrow roads and uneven surfaces, but I go by unnoticed by people.

“Are you coming?” Merlin asks, his voice echoing throughout my head. I nod then realise he cannot see me.

“Yes. I’m near the gates and waiting” I inform him, resting against the saddle behind somebody’s house, the gates in clear view. I only need to wait a few minutes as the Prince and his guard canter through the city entrance, Merlin flocking them. I wait for a few more, and nudge my own horse into a canter, riding back onto the main street and cantering out the front gates.

I stay just out of sight, barely seeing the red cloaks through the trees but Merlin helps guide me where possible. They must have reached near where they found the beast before or something telling them it is near as the dismount, tying their horses to trees and continuing via foot. I wait until they are out of sight, riding my own horse up to their makeshift camp.

I jog through the foliage, holding my bow ready in front of me. I step over a large indent of a paw in the ground, ignoring the shudder of fear it sends through me due to its size. I keep walking and soon I’m so close that they are only meters in front of me, Leon’s blonde hair and Torj’s red mane clearly visible. I watch Merlin and Arthur sneaking through the woods. Even from my position, I can hear growling and the sounds of heavy footsteps. There is a small cavern entrance, Merlin and Arthur entering from it, splitting from the rest of the group.

I follow them through, entering the cave not bothering to hide anymore. Merlin sees me and Arthur notices his friend’s gaze pointed at something behind him which urges him to spin around preparing to swing his sword. It hovers in mid-air as the Prince glares at me wide-eyed.

“Elena,” he hisses. “What in the world are you doing here.”

“Moral support,” I hiss back. Arthur doesn’t have a chance to retort as hissing echoes in the cave.

“What is that?” Merlin asks, looking around.

“Shh,” Arthur commands.

The creature looks more terrifying than both its footprint and drawing could ever portray. Large fangs blare at us. Arthur pushes Merlin who is closest to the beast out of the way and stands in front of me. I load my arrow, standing behind Arthur who swings his sword at the beast. It claws at him, effectively sending him on top of me. The weight of both the Prince and his armour send me to the ground, the arrow shooting aimlessly and weak. Arthur is knocked unconscious, so I push his shoulders off me. My hands touch something wet, hot, and sticky. I swallow thickly knowing its blood. The beast looks at me, preparing to attack again.

“Hey! Hey!” Merlin cries out, swinging his torch around. My mark warms as he casts a spell, Arthur’s lost sword becomes enchanted and swings around at the Questing Beast. It stabs it directly all the way to the hilt.

The beast cries out, attempting to shake the sword away but the Questing Beast is not immortal and dies in a small burst of energy.

Finally, our attention can be drawn to Arthur’s condition.

“It didn’t bite you. It didn’t,” Merlin mutters, running over to join me in assessing the Prince. I shakily hold my hand up which is covered in blood. Merlin’s breath shudders. “Arthur? Somebody help!” he shrieks.

I leap to my feet, knowing that every moment is another moment closer to Arthur’s death. I go to the entrance, yelling out to the knights who are nearby. “Leon!” I cry out. The knight’s head whips around in shock.

“Elena!” he cries back, sprinting over to me. The hand that isn’t holding his sword cups my face. “Why are you here?” he spits but I ignore the anger directed at me. The rest of the knights stand around dazed at the situation.

“Arthur!” is all I can say, dragging him and effectively the other knights into the cavern.

Nobody speaks to me on the way back, and I do not speak to them. I do, however, talk with Merlin telepathically, sending comforting and reassuring messages to him as we ride, Arthur strapped to his horse which is being led by one of the horses. He had not moved or even made a sound to indicate he is alive.

They bring him down of his horse, carrying him towards Gaius’. Merlin and I run ahead, sweeping off the table and I bring over Gaius’ main tools he uses.

“What’s happened?” The physician demands as Arthur is put on the table. He inspects the wound. “He’s be bitten.”

“I tried to save him,” Merlin whimpers.

“You must tell the King.”

They continue bickering as the knights leave to inform the King, Leon staying behind. I watch Arthur, biting my nail not sure what to do. Leon lays a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, not looking away from Arthur. “I had to come. Please don’t be mad.”

I hear him sigh, his hand dropping to my own. “I’m not mad,” he admits. “You’re an adventurous person who cares about people. I don’t know why I expected you to stay. Let’s just worry about Arthur.”

We do not speak for a few moments, Merlin looking at me, signalling to his magic book with his eyes. I realise he cannot do anything with Leon in the room. “Let’s wait outside, give them some space to work,” I suggest, giving a subtle nod to Merlin. Leon hesitates but agrees, letting me lead him outside. We walk slowly away from the chambers, not sure where to go. I feel my mark warm again, multiple times which does not give me any hope of success on Merlin’s part.

The King comes sprinting through, pushing through the closed door.

“He should be alright, shouldn’t he?” Leon questions. “It’s just a bite. Gaius’ has healed much worse.” I shake my head. Leon is currently losing one of his closest friends, someone he grew up with and I feel horrible being the one to tell him the severity the Questing Beast inflicts.

“The Questing Beast… its bite means almost certain death,” I mutter, adding the ‘almost’ to leave a shred of hope. I know that Merlin would be the one to figure something out if there is a way. Leon is silent, registering my words. For the first time, I look up to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark and brooding. “Gaius is going to do the best he can.”

The King exits, Arthur in his arms, bearing him. We follow behind with Gaius’ and Merlin. Arthur’s father is utterly distraught, and nobody can blame him, his only son and family left dying right there in his arms. He makes it into the Square, collapsing. Leon and another few knights go forth, taking Arthur from his arms to bear.

I stand with Merlin who cannot strip his eyes away. I glance at him, seeing his eyes filled with tears and his hands reach out to clutch my own. I let him squeeze it, the pain of my crushing fingers not registering in my brain. My own eyes are tearing, a single drop falling onto my cheek, but I hold to rest back for Merlin’s sake.

The warlock mutters something about Kilgharrah, running off before I can follow him which leaves me with Gaius. Back in his quarters, we work together on creating something to help Arthur.

Merlin arrives back just as we finish putting it together.

“Merlin, you’re back. I need your help. You must get this to Arthur to ease his passing,” he instructs, holding out a vial. But the warlock is distracted, grabbing a loaf of bread and wrapping it up.

“No. We have to save him,” he declares, ignoring the vial.

“How?” I prompt, eager to know what has got him so set and sure.

“The beast comes from the Old Religion. The cure must come from there as well.”

“There are not many left with such an art,” Gaius comments, not liking where the conversation is going.

“You said yourself, the Old Religion is still alive, and there is an island beyond the White Mountains…” he drifts off, insinuating something I don’t understand but Gaius does.

“No!” he argues, astonished at the suggestion.

“What are you talking about?” I interject.

“The Isle of the Blessed. It was said to be the centre of the Old Religion, the focus of its power,” Gaius explains.

“Why did you keep this from me?” Merlin questions.

“Because it was too dangerous, Merlin,” the physician counters. But I am on Merlin’s side here. It was a chance and a chance is all we needed to potentially save Arthur’s life. No matter the cost.

“It’s our only chance!” Merlin voices my thoughts. “I have to find it.”

“You already know I’m coming too,” I add.

“And once you are there, what will you ask?”

“For Arthur to be saved,” Merlin states the obvious.

“The Questing Beast chose Arthur. That means the Old Religion has decided his fate.” Gaius continues to try and stop Merlin, but the warlock’s mind and heart are set.

“Then I will convince them to change their minds!” he exclaims. Both men are becoming frustrated, but my words won’t end their argument.

“It is not that simple. The High Priests have the power to mirror life and death, but there will be a price to pay. They will demand a life in return. Merlin, please, I beg of you.”

“I’m sorry, Gaius. Whatever the price is, I will pay it gladly.”

Merlin sulks off to his room to pack more belongings.

“I will make sure that Merlin lives. I can trade my life in return,” I hush to Gaius. “It’s my duty and what I want.”

Gaius shakes his head. “Neither of you should. Merlin will never forgive himself if you were to take his place.” I can see in his eyes that the man is desperate, and I feel guilty but know I am doing the right thing by everybody. Except for Leon.

Merlin and I prepared our horses out in the Square. I had told Leon we would be looking for a plant that Gaius needs for a potential cure. Castor had cornered me in my room when I was packing, demanding to know the truth. I gave up and told him the general plan but left out the specifics not wanting him to interfere.

“Here,” Gaius says, handing Merlin a parchment. “You’ll need a map. And I’m going to give you this. My mother gave it to me.” He hands over a small object wrapped in a piece of cloth. Merlin unwraps it, revealing a furry object.

“It’s a rabbit’s foot, to keep you safe,” he explains. The sight of an animal’s foot makes my nose cringe a little but my heart warms at the sentiment. “It was said to protect you from evil spirits. It’s rubbish. I don’t believe in superstition. I don’t know why I gave it to you.” Gaius goes to reach to take it back, but I grab his hand, lowering it back down.

“No. I want it. Thank you.” Merlin wraps it back up, placing it in his pocket.

“Just keep Arthur alive for us till we return,” I tell him, bringing him into a hug.

Mounting, we gallop along the main road out of the city, one last look back at the castle before it is out of sight. We travel all day and into the late afternoon. The horses tire but we cannot grant them their rest for they would receive it when we did. Merlin reads the map; I never got the hang of them. I miss google maps. We are looking for a lake, north of the Great Seas of Meredor.

The lake finally comes into view as the day begins to end. We dismount, leaving the horses away from the shore. The lake is long, with an island in the middle. Old structures visible through the mist. The place causes a sense of unease and agitation. Merlin motions to an old rowboat on the shore so we pull it out and get inside it. Looking around I notice the lack of ores.

“Merlin? How are we going to row?” I question but Merlin only smirks, casting a spell which moves the boat, making me grip the sides in surprise.

The island is some type of fortress with high stone walls. We walk around them into the middle where a stone altar and woman in a red dress stand. Nimueh.

“Hello?” Merlin calls.

“Hello, Merlin. And I see you’ve brought your Vessel,” she remarks, scanning me from head to toe. I observe her myself, feeling slight envy at her beauty which is matched with her power. I feel weak and pathetic in comparison.

“You?” Merlin states, shocked that it is the Priestess who caused us so many issues in the past.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Nimueh. You can’t be who the dragon meant.” I silently agree with his statement, after all, she had tried to kill Uther and Merlin. Not to mention destroy Camelot itself.

“Why is that?” she taunts.

“You tried to kill me.”

“Before I understood your importance,” she counters, now smirking.

“And Arthur,” Merlin adds almost in a deadpan.

“Arthur was never destined to die at my hand, and now it seems I will be his salvation.”

“You know why we are here then? Will you grant us our wish?” I interject, feeling the need to voice myself rather than be a side piece. Nimueh raises an eyebrow and cocks her head.

“So, she does speak. And I was beginning to think she was a toy,” she mocks.

“Answer her question,” Merlin snarls. “Will you do it.”

“I do not have the power to mirror life itself and yet give nothing in return.”

“I know that a price will be asked.”

“To save a life, there must be a death. The balance of the world must be restored,” she explains. Before Merlin can speak up I do.

“I offer my own life for Arthur’s.”

“What? No?” Merlin cuts in, glancing at me with desperation and astonishment.

“I would gladly take it if I could, but as a Vessel, your life does not belong to you to bargain with anymore,” Nimueh states. Does not belong to me? I spare a glance at the warlock, wondering is she means it belongs to him. Merlin looks back at me, tilting his head, not understanding either.

“Then take mine,” Merlin prompts.

“If only it were that simple.”

“What do you mean?”

“Once you enter into this bargain, it cannot be undone,” she warns.

“Whatever I have to do, I will do. His life is worth a hundred of mine.”

Nimueh’s arm stretches out, grasping a chalice that appears out of thin air. “The Cup of Life blessed by centuries of powerful sorcerers so that it contains the very secret to life itself. If Arthur drinks water from the Cup, he will live.”

Merlin takes the Cup and Nimueh opens her arms up to the sky, speaking in the ancient tongue. Dark clouds gather forming a storm in a matter of seconds, pouring rain onto us. Water collects in the Cup, soaking all three of us as well. Oh, how I loathe being wet. I look at the Cup, not sure how we are going to bring it back to Camelot but Nimueh takes it, pouring the water into a long decorative vial.

“The bargain is struck. I hope it pleases you.” Her voice is taunting which makes me frown at her words, as though there is a hidden meaning.

Wasting no more time, we cross the lake once more, galloping back to Camelot. We arrive very late into the night. Merlin runs into Gaius’ chambers, clutching the vial with his life.

“Elena, Merlin!” Gaius’ cries in shock.

“We need to give this to Arthur,” he holds out the vial for Gaius to see. The physician eyes it wearily.

“What is it?”

“Water, from the Cup of Life,” I say stepping forward. “We have to get this to Arthur right now.” Merlin and I turn to make way to Arthur’s chambers, but Gaius stops, making us wait.

“What are you waiting for?” Merlin questions, eager to leave.

“What price did you pay to redeem his life? Whose life did you bargain?!” he demands. Merlin looks at me, but I don’t say anything. The atmosphere tenses, leaving Merlin to reply.

“We don’t have time,” he says eventually. Gaius calls out his name again, glaring at me to prompt an answer but I shake my head, for he already knows the answer.

“Don’t worry, Gaius. Everything’s going to be alright.”

It sure will be, because neither of them is going to die on my watch.

Gaius gives in, following us to Arthur’s chambers. The Prince looks like death, feverish, and pale. I fear it may be too late but I still his chest still rising. Gaius takes the vial, opening the Prince’s mouth, pouring the water into it. I question whether it will be enough, only a dribble coming through.

“What are you doing, physician? What are you giving him?” The King demands, entering the chambers.

Gaius hesitates, forming an excuse in his head. “It’s a…cure. It’s a tincture made from the lobelia plant, an ancient remedy for poisonous bites,” he covers up. I secretly wipe sweat from my brow, remembering I told Leon I was searching for a plant and our story would match if ever questioned.

“A cure?” the King pleads.

“We hope.”

“Do you really think it will have some effect?”

“It’s our last resort, Sire. Perhaps you should allow him to rest.”

“I will not leave him.”

We exit, letting the King sit by Arthur’s side. Merlin looks confident but Gaius still has doubts, whether about if Arthur lives and who’s life has been paid are unclear. I notice Merlin not with us and my head spins trying to find him. He appears back out of a small nook in the corridor make me frown.

I sit at the table, chin resting in my folded and tented hands. Merlin paces, beginning to irritate me but I do not have to heart to tell him to stop. Gaius enters back into the room, both Merlin and I staring up at him awaiting the news.

“The Prince lives,” he says, in a happy state of shock. Merlin exhales loudly, a smile peaking on his face. I smile too, but there is still more to come which worries me and Gaius shares this worry. Merlin hugs as both tightly, bidding us goodnight and I watch him go back into his chambers quietly.

“He was trying to say goodbye just then,” I mutter to Gaius. The physician sighs, also staring at Merlin’s door.

“I’m afraid you’re right.”

“It’s not going to happen though. I’m the Vessel. I will take whatever is cast upon him or we will both die anyway.”

“How are you going to do that, Elena. I know it is in a Vessel’s power but things like this take years of training.”

“Good thing I’ve been practising then hasn’t it,” I declare, smirking sadly at the man.

I have been thinking about my death since the moment of realisation that Merlin would be sacrificing his own life for Arthurs. I am glad he is still unaware that my life is in his hands or his decision would have been impossible for him to make, so I am making it for him. Both or one, the choice is simple. I would be leaving this world behind and the people in it but for a cause my greater than my own short life. I had spent the ride, remembering the knight’s faces. Castor laugh, Torj’s accent, Leon’s face. I had imagined Gwen smiling kindly at me, helping me sew. Morgana twirling in the dress I made her. I thought back to the nights spent at the tavern, dancing with Merlin on the table and the first time I realised my feelings for Leon.

“Practicing?” Gaius question, perplexed. His head leans forward, a motion I have noticed he does when wanting to know more to get his point across. “What do you mean.”

I pull my sleeve up on my left hand, a small mark where it looks like it has been scratched. I gesture to it. “Merlin got this scratch while he was helping Arthur at training. I took it from him about a week ago now. I just need to be in contact with him and it comes naturally. Like magic comes naturally to him.”

Gaius’ hand covers his mouth, rubbing it over. “There must be another way,” he presses.

I shake my head, already determined. “I just have to do one thing then I’ll be back. As soon as Merlin’s health drops, I’ll be there.” I go to leave but pause. “Gaius, can you promise me one thing.”

The physician nods solemnly. “Anything.”

“Can you make sure he doesn’t blame himself.” Gaius understand exactly what I mean, nods again.

“I can only do my best, but you know him just as well as I do.”

I leave his quarters, Leon’s chambers set it my mind.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 37

I stand outside his door, having a moment to myself. It is the middle of the night and he is surely asleep. I do not particularly want to wake him up, knowing he has been stressed but I would not be able to walk to my death without saying what I need to say. I open the door, and just as I thought, Leon lays on his bed, under the covers on this cool night. His blonde hair pushed up and light breath coming from his open mouth. I smile at the innocence on his face while he sleeps.

I saunter over to his bed, kneeling down next to him. My hand reaches out, gently rocking his shoulder to wake him nicely. He lets out a small grunt, eyes opening. He backs away, not yet making my features out in the darkness but he squints.

“Elena?” he asks, his voice raspy.

“Hey,” I whisper back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why are you assuming something is wrong,” I counter but then realise the foolishness of my question. I’m not waking him up in the middle of the night to make pancakes.

“Because I know you hate waking me up,” he retorts. It is true, many times in the past I had been tasked with waking him, especially on hunts or lookout duty. I sigh, nodding.

“Arthur is alive and on the road to recovery,” I begin, still not sure what I am going to say next. Leon sits up more, his hands grasping my own. I cling to them, heart thumping in my chest.

“So, the plant worked? Gaius found a cure,” he questions, a smile donning his cheeks.

“Yeah,” I nod quietly with a short smile, but it widens as I know what I am going to say. “Leon, I just want you to know that I love you. I really do.” My confession comes from the heart and I stare into his eyes which light up. His smile turns into a Cheshire grin.

“I love you too. More than you can imagine.” His lips find mine and I relish this moment, our final kiss before the afterlife snatches the rest away from me. He can move on to find a noblewoman, the one he deserves. He can’t work all his life to get where he is for a servant girl to bring him back down.

“I’ll let you go back to sleep,” I tell him, letting go of his hands.

“Why don’t you stay here the night?” he offers, opening up the bed covers to urge me in, but I shake my head, arguing against my own mind which is yelling at me to crawl into his arms and be warm and safe. But I won’t be safe if Merlin is going to die.

“I’ve got to go help Gaius with Arthur, make sure everything is going fine,” I lie. Leon nods dejectedly but understands. I kiss his forehead one last time, brushing away a blonde curl.

I close the door behind me, but instead of going back to Gaius’ I enter Castor’s room. He lays shirtless and horizontally across his bed. I shake his shoulder roughly, the boy needing more shock to wake than Leon. He snorts, cutting off his snores. His eyes open groggily, seeing me stand above him.

“El? You’re back?” he asks, same raspy voice as Leon. I nod, sitting down on his bed.

“It’s time for me to do it,” I state, not wanting to say ‘die’ aloud. “Merlin bargained his life for Arthurs. The Prince is alive and well now, so I have to go and make sure I arrive on time.”

Castor looks down, his forehead crinkling. He glances back up at me with sad eyes.

“Do you have to do it? I know you love Merlin but just think of what you’re leaving behind as well,” he presses.

“If Merlin dies, I die anyway,” I remind him. “This way, one of us gets to live.”

“There’s no way to stop Merlin from dying in the first place?”

“To save a life you must condemn one, that is the way of the Old Religion. You have to have balance.”

Neither of us says anything, just breathing slowly but his arms encircle my, drawing me to his chest. I let it out here, a sob tracking up my throat and into my mouth, covered by my hand. Tears fall quickly down my cheeks.

“I told him I loved him,” I cry.

“I’m glad you told him. He’s not going to take this well,” he whispers. “And neither am I.”

I hear him sniffle, holding back emotion while I purge it from my body. I sit for a few more minutes, my sobs turning into dry and red eyes which sting and a blocked nose.

“He deserves better anyways,” I remark, scratching my forehead. Castor looks at me confused.

“What?”

“He deserves nobility. To keep his reputation and bring more power,” I explain. “That’s the way it should be here. I can’t take that opportunity away from him.”

“Leon doesn’t care about that. He has worked hard to get where he is, you are not going to affect that,” he argues.

“But I care,” I exclaim. “I want to make sure he has the best opportunities. And other’s care. King’s are going to visit Camelot and what would they say if they saw one of the best knights married to a seamstress.”

“Leon is above that. He would never let anybody look down on you.”

I huff shortly, giving up on proving my point, useless now that I am to die anyway.

“I have to go. Let Torj know that I will miss him. He’s too much of a pain in the ass to wake,” I joke. Castor chuckles as well.

“He would probably throw a vase at you.”

Giving the boy one last final squeeze, both of us accepting my fate I leave him and saunter back to Gaius’ chambers.

I enter quietly.

“He’s asleep,” Gaius mutters to me. I thank him, walking up the short stairs to the boy’s small room. I open the door and sure enough, he is lying on his bed fast asleep. Waiting for death.

I can’t do anything until he starts to suffer so I sit down, leaning against his wardrobe and watch him for any signs of distress. I am scared initially that I will fall asleep, but I feel no tire, my heart still thumping loudly against my rib cage and my mind running through what seems to be my entire life.

After an hour or so, boredom silently taking me, and my legs numb I hear a small whimper coming from his mouth. I get up silently, crawling over to him. His forehead is sweaty, small patches of skin reddening and what looks like small blister beginning to form.

This is it.

I place my hands on his arm, ever so lightly to not wake him but the sickness which holds him keep him asleep, draining his energy. I open the channel feeling the energy flow both out of my and into him while in return I gain his. Like magic itself, the fever begins to calm itself, the blisters and red skin sinking back.

My throat begins to scratch and a headache form. Spots on my own skin redden and even a few small blisters form. It feels horrid and unnatural, but I cannot pull away until I have finished.

The channel closes itself and I let go of the warlock’s hand, falling back to the ground and gasping for air. Merlin exhales deeply, turning away from me and still in a deep sleep but alive and no sign of illness.

I hold my hands up. The red marks grow along with them, and I feel them on my face as well. I hold a cough down, the fever beginning to take me. Stuttering, I open his door to leave but standing up has made my head feel light, my sight dizzies even though I am standing still.

“Gaius,” I croak out. 

The physician notices me coming back out. I don’t have the energy to say anything else, my body weakening by the second. My legs fold underneath me, sending me tumbling down the stairs and landing at the bottom in a heap. Gaius runs over, assessing me. I stare up at him, to exhausted to move myself from the floor. Two emotions conflict inside me. One being ever so glad that I had done my duty, saving Merlin’s life. But the other is being petrified of death now that it is upon me.

Gaius lifts me, pulling me over to the medical bed. He makes no move to wake Merlin which I silently thank him for, wanting to just go to sleep right now and lead to nothing more. He mutters to himself, moving about to find something to help me. He eventually finds what he is looking for, a small vial I had seen many times. A sleeping agent, that he usually makes for Morgana. There is nothing for him to do but help me through the pain. I open my mouth willingly, letting him pour the remedy in. It tastes sweet and I start to feel it within minutes, eyes forcing themselves close.

I take one last look at Gaius, sending him the biggest smile I can conjure before I finally fall asleep, scared but not alone.

The Next Morning

Merlin is not expecting to wake up, so when the sun hits his eyes, forcing them to open his sits up astounded. Patting himself down, the warlock assures himself that it is not some post-death dream and is in fact, reality. Maybe he didn’t have to give his life for Arthur’s, maybe the Prince was destined to live anyways so no life had to be paid. 

He quickly puts on his clothes for the day a grin planting itself on his face. Almost jumping down the stairs he greets Gaius.

“Gaius! I’m alive,” he announces.

The physician looks up from his place leant over a table. He had covered the girl’s body gently with a sheet to hide her from the warlock’s view and placed her on the far end of his quarters. Gaius mocks surprise and delight.

“Merlin! It’s good to see you still walking,” he cheers but his tone is off. Not that Merlin notices, too distracted by the thought of going to see Arthur again. “You should probably go attend to your Prince,” he advises. Merlin nods, jogging out of the door.

Normally Gaius would be questioning why Merlin is still alive, knowing that the Old Religion does not give up on its price, but his heart aches knowing that sooner or later he would have to tell the boy. He moves the sheet back down off the girl’s head. Her face is worse than before, blistering everywhere and a fever controlling her body. He pours a liquid into her mouth, one to help calm the fever but it is only to shorten the suffering.

Merlin bounds into the Prince’s room. Arthur is standing, still in his old clothes and gazing out of the window.

“Good morning, Sire,” Merlin greets. Arthur looks around, smiling at his servant.

“Merlin. You have some jobs you’ve been avoiding,” he cheeks. “My armour needs to be cleaned, boots polished, dogs walked, chambers cleaned, and bring these clothes to Elena to be fixed,” he demands. His face is set straight, but Merlin’s astonishment breaks it. Arthur laughs, striding over and bringing the servant into a hug. Merlin clings back willingly but the Prince pulls away, a serious look back on his face. “No but seriously. You’ve been slacking and I need these things done.”

Merlin gives a short laugh, grabbing the pile of clothes. “I’m glad you’re alive. I need the job,” he teases but he is true to the words. His job is to protect Arthur, something he himself lives for now. Arthur smiles kindly, silently thanking the boy.

Merlin leaves the chambers, heading to Elena’s to drop off the clothes. He is surprised he hadn’t seen her this morning, considering her and Gaius thought he was going to die.

“El?” he reaches out in his mind. He can still feel her there, but she does not answer. He can tell she isn’t in her room, a slight tug pulling in the opposite direction, but he is still going to her room to put the clothes down. He could find her after. Maybe she is trying to keep busy.

“Are you there?” he asks again, but like only minutes before there is no answer. He bites the inside of his cheek, knowing the Elena has never not answered him before. He thought she would be elated to hear him talking.

He is near her room when four or so knights walk towards his direction, talking amongst each other. He recognises them all, particularly Leon who Elena is fond of and spoke about many times. One of them, a dark-headed man with curly hair – Sir Castor, Merlin believes – is staring at Merlin. Merlin’s eyebrow twitches, quickly assessing himself to see if anything about him is wrong but he finds nothing. The Knight gives him a small smile but quickly drops it again. Merlin doesn’t have time to smile back before they pass him. 

He shakes his head, heading through the corridors to her room. He knocks but like expected there isn’t an answer, so he lets himself in. Her room is bare for someone who has lived in it for two years, mostly filled with sewing tools and cloth but there is a lack of personal items. He places the Prince’s clothes gently on her bed, keeping them folded. One last glance around the room stops him from leaving, a piece of paper on her desk lying unfolded although there is an obvious crease. Merlin has a habit of prying where his eyes don’t belong but it is a habit that has saved many lives so he hasn’t given it up just yet.

He grabs the paper, scanning it over. His eye catches the word Vessel and Meistr. The edges are torn, as though taken from a book and his mind reels back to the book Elena had given him a few weeks ago, some pages torn out at the end. He hadn’t realised it was her doing. Merlin starts reading it from the start, taking it all its words. His stomach begins to slowly drop with each sentence, but it hits the ground at the realisation. If he had died, Elena would have as well.

She had never said anything, never given hint. Why has she hidden that from him? He reads over the part describing a Vessel’s ability to heal when it all clicks. Why he is still alive. Why Elena isn’t answering him. Does Sir Castor know? He had seemed to know something the Merlin certainly doesn’t.

The paper drops from his hands, slowly floating to the ground by Merlin is already sprinting down the corridor by the time it lands of the floor. The warlock hasn’t run so fast in a long time, gasping for breath by the time he reaches Gaius’ chambers. He slams to door open, striding in and surveying the room once more. Where else could she be but here?

Gaius almost knocks himself over at the bang of the door, startled by the boy who is glaring at him. Elena lies down on the bed, still asleep and the physician has been attending to her prior to Merlin’s appearance.

Merlin sees the familiar hair sprawled across the pillow and his fears become a reality. He swallows, not sure he wants to see but he quietly walks up to the bed next to Gaius. His hand covers his mouth to hold in a gasp as he sees her, covered in red blisters and wounds, sweat pooling at her forehead and neck.

“I-I…I didn’t know,” he stutters out. He can hardly breathe. “Do something Gaius!” he cries out, dropping to his knees beside her. He takes her hand, Elena’s eyes opening slightly but close again shortly after. Gaius sighs, already resigning to fate.

“I can’t,” he tells the boy. “This illness is caused by the magic of the Old Religion.”

“Please, Gaius!” Merlin begs, his puppy dog eyes wet as they look between the physician and his best friend. “I bargained my life to Nimueh. I didn’t know…” Merlin realises this must have been her plan all along, for she had put up little resistance to him sacrificing his own life. He didn’t think much of it then, but it makes sense to him now. He had almost died through the night, which would have killed her anyway but now she suffers herself, a price to pay for saving his life.

“Nimueh?” Gaius exclaims, recalling the history of the Priestess. “Merlin, I wish there was something I could do.”

Merlin nods, letting go of her hand and standing back up. “I will make you better. I will,” he promises her.

While Merlin goes down to speak with the dragon, Castor continues his day trying to ignore what he knows is happening somewhere. He saw Merlin walking past casually and he knew then that the boy didn’t know just yet. Castor and Leon stand talking to another knight, but he isn’t listening. Torj had gone off the training the newer knights while Arthur recovers. Castor wanted to see Elena but he wanted his last memory of her to be a picture of full health, not on her deathbed and he can't interfere because it would announce that he knows more than he should - a danger that could gt him and other killed. 

And there is Leon, the poor man who has no clue that the girl he loves is either dead or dying somewhere. As they talk casually, the boy – Merlin passes them once more only he’s sprinting back the way he came. Leon frowns, looking at where the boy just disappeared around a corner.

“Merlin was in quite a hurry,” he comments. Castor hums in response. His friend should have a right to know but he would have to explain more than he is willing to and he shouldn’t even know in the first place. He had to wait until Merlin or Gaius announced it to the Court.

Merlin leaves Arthur’s chambers once again, letting his last words be telling the Prince not to be a prat. His life was the one struck in the bargain and he would be the one to die. It conflicted in his mind that Elena is supposed to die if he dies as well but the Old Religion is powerful, and he hopes it could break that connection through the bargain. Otherwise, it would not be balanced.

He goes into his room where Elena has been moved to, Gwen by her side.

“Gaius had to go and get some supplies. He asked me to keep an eye on her until you go back,” she explains. Gwen is devastated at the sight of her friend, but she knows the Merlin is facing just the same, if not worse anguish.

“Thank you,” the warlock murmurs giving a kind smile to his friend.

“I’m sorry,” Gwen offers.

“No, she’ll get better.”

“I’ve tried to make her feel comfortable.”

“You have such a good heart, Gwen. Don’t ever lose that,” Merlin tells her. Gwen doesn’t respond, only giving a slight smile and leaving Elena in Merlin’s care. The boy sits down at her side, but she still sleeps.

He leaves his room once he is sure she is fine, preparing to pack to leave for the Isle of the Blessed once more in the morning.

“Gaius?” he calls out but the physician doesn’t answer. A small note, his name written on it sits clearly on the table. He opens it, recognising Gaius’ handwriting. “No!” he cries. Not bothering to pack anything else, he rides out of Camelot immediately.

Gwen walks back through the castle, finishing her duties for the day. She will come back to help with Elena later, but she wanted to give Merlin some time alone with her. She holds a sniffle, a small tear down her face. But the serving boy runs past her, skidding for a moment as he realises it is Gwen.

“Gwen!” he shrieks. “I’m so sorry but can you stay with Elena. Gaius needs my help and it can’t wait.” Gwen nods frantically.

“Of course. I’ll go back now.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” Merlin picks up his pace again as Gwen turns around to go back Elena. She worries about Merlin as well, her friend seeming frightened and lost.

Sitting by her friend, she attends to him just as she had Arthur only a few nights ago but now it is morning. It is an odd coincidence that two of her friends have fallen gravely ill in the same week, but both have very different symptoms. And Arthur was wounded by a Beast. As she wipes the seamstress’ brow, she can hear a mumbled yelling from outside. She places down the bowl and cloth, opening the door to Merlin’s room to see what is happening.

Arthur opens the door to Gaius’ quarters.

“Merlin!” he yells, looking around but of course there is no servant to answer to him. Not even Gaius to tell him where his slack servant ran off too. He does, however, notice Gwen peeking her head out of Merlin’s door. “Gwen? What on earth are you doing in Merlin’s bedroom?” he asks incredulously. Gwen had been informed that nobody yet knew of Elena, Gaius had warned her to stay quiet about it, for some unknown reason. She suspects something going on, both men acting strangely but she didn’t want to ask. The Prince, however, will find out one way or another. And Gwen couldn’t let him believe something odd as a reason for her to be in Merlin’s room.

So instead, she sighs, opening the door further. “I’m taking care of somebody for Gaius. He’s had to go get some supplies and Merlin’s gone to help.”

Arthur shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “I appreciate all Gaius does but sometimes Merlin forgets that he’s my servant first and foremost.” He thinks for a moment of the oddity than the person is begin cared for in Merlin’s room and not out in the usual medical area. “Who are they treating?”

“Elena,” Gwen exhales, looking back at the girl. Arthur’s eyebrows raise, walking forward to come see for himself.

“Elena?” he strides up the stairs to his servant’s bedroom, and Gwen moves aside to let him through. The sight shocks him, not preparing for the ghastly image of the seamstress. Blistering and red face, signs of fever and disease all over her. If it were not his friend, he would be repulsed by the sight. “Why has nobody informed me?” he demands, although his anger is not directed at Gwen. Gwen shrugs, holding her arms.

“I-I don’t know. Gaius wanted to keep it down low for some reason,” she explains, making Arthur frown.

“Why? He can help her right? Why would he want to keep this secret?” the Prince questions aloud. “He brought me back from almost certain death, surely he can cure a fever and whatever is causing this.”

“Gaius only informed me to do whatever I could to make her comfortable,” Gwen insists, not sure what else to say. Arthur understands the implication of her words. He leans on the end of the bed, gripping the wood hard.

“What about her friends? Leon?” he presses. “The King. Shouldn’t they have a right to know?”

Gwen nods, the internal battle of whether to agree with Arthur or follow Gaius’ instructions. But Arthur is the Prince and his command wins out. Arthur is about to leave to inform those who need to know but movement on the bed causes them both to forget their debate. Gwen runs to her side, kneeling and brushing a hand against her forehead. Elena twitches, small convulsion in her hands, neck and feet. It spreads through her arms and legs.

“What’s happening?” Arthur demands but Gwen shakes her head.

“I don’t know,” she whimpers.

As they begin to think the convulsion is going to turn for the worst, they stop altogether. An eerie stillness blankets the room. Gwen assesses Elena. Her hands running over her, shaking. She eyes the stillness in her chest. Her fingers find the crevice in her neck, awaiting a heartbeat.

“She’s dead,” Gwen mutters. Arthur sighs deeply, bowing his head. All he can think about it how it is now his duty to deliver this news. Gwen’s eyes close shut, turning around so she can hide in the chest of Arthur who delicately wraps his arm’s around the woman he is learning to love.

“I mean, at least this guy is closer to your age,” a raspy voice mutters, referencing the time Gwen was comforted by Gaius when Merlin had nearly died. Gwen and Arthur look at the girl, Elena, who had been dead only seconds ago now pushing herself into a sitting position. “Oh, I can’t believe you alive. I knew you’d come back,” she says in a high pitched voice rooted in sarcasm and a rolls her eyes. “You’d think I’d earn that after all this,” she teases. Gwen and Arthur break from their spell of disbelief. Gwen wraps her arms around Elena tightly, making the seamstress laugh. “That’s more like it.” She thinks for a moment more. “And don’t tell Leon. He has enough on his plate,” she instructs, making the prince roll his eyes and chuckle.

Merlin finally reaches the island, Gaius lying on the ground unconscious or dead he cannot tell. A large pain erupts in his stomach that sends him bent over, clutching at the area. He knows deep down that it is his bond to Elena, and it is not a good sign at all.

“Elena?” he tries again, still not receiving any response. The pain subsides, allowing him to stand back up. 

“Stop!” he cries out to Nimueh who turns around with the usual confidence she holds.

“Back so soon, warlock?”

“What have you done?” he demands.

“Your dear friend gave up his life for you, I just gave him his wish,” she taunts, gesturing to Gaius.

“Have you killed him?” Merlin can’t bear this. First Elena and now Gaius. His heart is shattering at every moment.

“It was his wish,” she states, tilting her head to the side.

“I bid my life for Arthur’s, not Elena’s or Gaius’,” he argues, still hoping he can spare the both of them.

“And both of them chose to save you. What good friends you have indeed. The Old Religion does not care who lives or dies, only that the balance is restored. They new that.”

“It is not the Old Religion that has done this. It is you.”

“Come now. We are too valuable to each other to be enemies.”

“No!” Merlin cries. “I share nothing with you.”

“With my help, Arthur will become King.”

“I will make Arthur King,” the warlock declares, now seeing what he needs to do. The Old Religion doesn’t care whose life it is. As long as there is one. “But you will never see that day. Ástríce!”

Nimueh is much more powerful than Merlin expected, completely absorbing his attack unharmed. She turns around, much angrier than she had been.

“Your childish tricks are useless against me, Merlin. Especially without your little Vessel anymore. I am a priestess of the Old Religion. Forbaerne! You, too, are a creature of the Old Religion. You should join me,” the Priestess offers him one last chance.

“You think I would join forces with such a selfish and cruel magic? Never,” he spits.

“So be it,” she mocks. “Acwele!” A large bolt of fire and energy blasts Merlin, directly hitting him in the chest. He is flung backwards, landing on the ground and a small fire burning on his chest. “Pity. Together we could’ve ruled the world.”

The Priestess turns, walking away but unbeknownst to her, the warlock still lives, the power in his blood saving him once again.

“You should not have killed my friend,” he says. He casts up to the sky, a great power he had never conjured before flowing through him. He is surprised he can manage this without Elena nearby, the energy travelling further and harder than it ever has before. The clouds send down a lightning, full of raw magic that strikes Nimueh. Her whole being disappears into nothingness.

“Gaius! Gaius!” Merlin shouts, running down next to his friend, cradling him in his arms. “No, no, no.” he closes his eyes, head tilting to the sky.

“Merlin,” Gaius grumbles, eyes slowly opening. Merlin looks at him in a happy state of shock.

“Gaius. Gaius!” he breaks out into a grin realising he isn’t delusional. “You’re alive!”

“What did you do?”

“Nimueh’s dead. The balance of the world has been restored.”

“You amaze me,” he cackles. “You’ve mastered the power of life and death itself. We’ll make a great warlock you yet.”

“So you believe in me now?” Merlin teases.

“Well, I would do if…” he looks up to the rain which is drenching them. “…if you could stop this blasted rain.”

Merlin laughs, agreeing but does nothing to stop it. “Elena should be fine right? I mean, you gave your life for her then Nimueh took your place - all is balanced.”

Gaius nods. “Well I didn’t come here for nothing did I?”

Merlin reaches out to her in his head but it feels off, like there is nothing to connect to. Something is wrong. He feels for the bond, the knowing tug but there is nothing to feel for. It is just gone. But she has to be alive, there’s no reason for her to be dead. Gaius came back and so should she. He thinks back to the moment he arrived, the pain in his body.

“Gaius,” he whispers. “I think somethings wrong.”

Gaius looks over the warlock, searching for what he means. “What is it?”

Merlin’s eyes prickle, mixing rain and tear. “I can’t feel her… Elena. I-I-I can’t feel her Gaius,” he cries, word jumbling together. “Why can’t I?”

“I don’t understand,” Gaius says, not sure what to think. “She should be alive.” Merlin shakes his head. “The world must be balanced,” he insists.

“We have to get back,” Merlin mutters, pulling Gaius to his feet.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 38

After assuring Gwen and Arthur I am fine, they leave me to fend for myself. Using a basin and cloth, I clean my face, the scabby texture and blisters almost fading away ever moment. Much to quick to be natural but I assume it is a magical disease. I smile, holding the cloth up to my face again-

-Why am I alive? A sudden intake of breath and shock cause me to drop the cloth. It lands on the floor but I don’t take notice. I’m supposed to be dead, so why am I not.

“Gaius? Merlin?” I cry out. Gwen hadn’t said anything about them, only that they left hours ago for supplies. No, they couldn't be out for supplies. The only other person who knew about this is Castor.

“Merlin?”

But there’s an emptiness inside that I hadn’t felt in six months. Disconnection. Alone. My hands encircle my face, digging my nails into my scalp. He can’t be dead, or I would be dead. But I was dead. I try to make sense of the situation in my mind – to play out all the variables but I can’t think straight. I must make sure Castor is here, rule him out of involvement.

I sprint out of the physician’s quarters, my legs still weak but enough to keep me from falling over. It’s the morning so they are likely down at the training grounds. I know Castor well enough to know that he would be doing his best to ignore it, because it is something he can’t control.

True to my prediction, Castor and the rest of the knights are there and I continue walking forward to watch. Said knight is fighting against Arthur in a way I’ve never seen before. His moves a fierce and barbaric, unlike the knightly way of skill and precision. Arthur holds a defence, Castor not allowing him to attack but leaves himself open in return. Seeing an opening, the Prince strikes towards him, low on his torso. Castor throws his sword to the ground in frustration.

“What’s his issue?” Leon, who is waiting in the crowd asks aloud to anybody nearby. Castor turns to glare at him, but his eyes shift to me as I walk up behind them.

“Sorry,” I call out catching their attention. “I insulted him yesterday and his ego is deflated,” I finish with a smirk. Leon and the other knights laugh. Arthur eyes me, silently asking if I’m ok and I return it with a subtle nod.

Castor on the other hand looks at me, not believing I stand here still alive. He almost certainly has no idea what’s going on. I spare a glance to Leon, who has no idea that only an hour or two ago I was on my deathbed.

“I’ll see you boys later,” I bid. Castor picks up his sword.

“Wait!”

I stop, waiting for him to catch up. I almost expect Arthur to say something about one of his mean missing training but by the look on his face I think he knows that Castor knew something as well, so he doesn’t make a move to argue. Castor comes into step with me and we walk away silently. Once out of the view of prying eyes, his arms engulf me in a hug before pulling away.

“I thought you were dead,” he hisses, clutching my shoulders and shaking them.

“And I was,” I tell him. “But now I’m not and I’m trying to figure out why. Merlin and Gaius are gone and I’ve think they’ve done something.”

“Where are they?”

“Possibly the Isle of the Blessed – but I don’t know how to get there, I didn’t exactly pay attention last time,” I rant, rubbing my arms. Castor’s hand grabs them, holding them still.

“It’s ok-“

“No, it’s not, Castor. My friends are missing and possibly dead and- “

“You mean those friends,” he interjects with a smile. He points behind me to two people riding on a single horse. They are, indeed, unmistakably my friends. I let out a cry of relief and run towards them.

Merlin dismounts, jogging towards the castle but I am running to them from a side entry. He seems frantic, like he’s lost something precious. What would be the matter? He and Gaius have saved me… but who has taken my place?

“Merlin!” I shout over the Square. Hearing my voice call his name, his head spins, eyes locking with mine. He halts in his step and we stand there looking at each other. Then we both sprint, meeting in the middle in a crushing hug that I’m surprised didn’t send us to the ground.

“Elena,” he whispers in my ear. “I couldn’t feel you; you wouldn’t answer. I thought you were dead,” he admits softly, his face buried in my hair while mine in his scarf. I shake my head.

“No, I was there, I felt death but then I came back,” I explain, small trembles in my hand from adrenaline. I register the rest his words. He feels the same I do – nothing. I pull back from him, searching his eyes. “I can’t feel you anymore either. The bond- it only ends in death. It may have been only for a moment, but I was there.”

“You think it’s broken?” Merlin whimpers, his eyebrows scrunching together. “We can do the oath again right? Just need to mix our blood,” he rambles.

I nod, agreeing on the outside but inside me is tumbling. I am no longer connected to him; I have nothing physical keeping me here with him. Merlin is one of my best friends in the entire world, I’ve shared every part of my life with him. But leaving to Ealdor had awoken something in me, something that I never brought up as I thought it wouldn’t be possible. There is so much in this world I have yet to see. Amazing cultures, people. Places where magic is freely used. I want to see it, so desperately. I’ve broken free from the fear of the unknown out there.

But then something has always kept me grounded. Leon, Castor, Torj, Merlin, Gaius, Gwen. My family is here. But it wouldn’t be forever; I would come back sooner or later.

I greet Gaius with a much softer hug and Castor walks up, greeting them both but gives no indication that he knows about anything that just happened. Merlin informs me as we walk back to his chambers that he had killed Nimueh, exchanging her life to end the cycle of everybody volunteering for each other. I am glad that he found a solution, joking that I would have had to go back out and volunteer myself to save Merlin, who was saving Gaius, who was saving me, who was saving Merlin, who was saving Arthur. At least, I think that is how the chain goes.

I spend the day catching up on my job, getting to hear Arthur bag out Merlin for being away and letting his chambers get horrendously messy. Gwen keeps her promise and doesn’t speak of the events over the last twenty four hours, Gaius explaining that they feared it would spread fear at the idea of being contagious, which he assured her it was not. My skin had almost completely healed, a few red marks visible but I pass them off as sunspots when the oblivious Leon questions it.

I wander through the town, entering back into the Square. I see Leon and Arthur in one of the open corridors speaking with a Lady of the court. A beautiful woman, who holds power, money and influence. She looks so right next to him. I am not jealous, that has never been my style, and Leon is much to honourable and loyal to even look at another let alone be forward but I do feel discontent with my own position.

While she carry’s power, I carry somebody else’s laundry. While she is donned in jewels and pretty clothes, I am covered in sweat and freckles from the sun. Leon should have someone like her standing next to him. I love him enough to want him to have what he has earned.

I mark this as the moment my decision is made.

After speaking with the King on the matter, who is disappointed but understanding, offers my position back as soon as I please.

“I adore your clothes that you have brought me,” he said, giving a rare smile.

So that night, I spent helping Merlin with Gaius' chores, scrubbing the floor. I wait till he is done, putting down my own brush. “Merlin,” I call, his head turning to me. “I’m leaving Camelot.”


End file.
